


Dance with the Devil

by morganoconner



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-07-13
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 21:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 65,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam risked his life to save the world, and he held the Allspark as it was destroyed.  He never considered the consequences such an action would have on him later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam’s only thought when he had pushed the Allspark into Megatron’s chest was to destroy the damn thing and not have to sacrifice any of his friends doing it. He had thought of nothing else, and probably wouldn’t have changed his actions even if he had. He just wanted it gone. He never felt the shard slice into his hand, didn’t acknowledge the flare of pain that burned from his fingers to his shoulder and into his chest. He just grit his teeth and pushed it deeper. When it burned his fingers, he never cried out, and when Megatron finally fell, all Sam could do was breathe a sigh of relief.

For three days after that, he slept like a log. When he woke up to eat, shower, or use the bathroom, it was bleary-eyed and disconnected. He didn’t speak to anyone, not even Mikaela when she came over. Bumblebee sat in the driveway, keeping vigil over his human when night fell, worrying incessantly during the daytime. Everyone figured that he had saved the world, and it was finally catching up with him.

The fourth day, Sam finally woke up and noticed that the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. He spent the day at the overlook with his Autobot friends and Mikaela. If he occasionally felt a twinge in his arm, he figured it was just a pulled muscle from the battle, something else to add to the long list of surface injuries he had sustained. If Mikaela noticed that his eyes flickered blue in the sunlight, she said nothing and probably just assumed it was a trick of the sun.

In fact, it wasn’t until the second month, when summer vacation had really kicked off, that Sam noticed anything might be wrong. His arm had been bothering him more lately, it was stiff and a little painful to move. He was rubbing his shoulder to try and loosen it a bit, but something felt…off.

Mikaela was sitting at the end of his bed, flipping through a magazine, looking at him with the same worried expression she usually wore lately. “It’s bothering you again, isn’t it?” she asked with a tired sigh. “Sam, you need to get it checked out, you could have really damaged it during the fight.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Jesus, lay off of it for like, two minutes.” Sam didn’t mean to snap at her, he really didn’t. The thought of pissing Mikaela off scared him, and not just because he knew she could kick his ass if she wanted to.

She snapped the magazine closed and glared at him. “You know what Sam? I’ve really had enough of this. You’re being ridiculous. If you won’t go see a doctor, at least let Ratchet do a scan the next time you see him. He’ll at least be able to tell you if something’s wrong, right?”

Sam weighed his options. He didn’t want anyone to get all fussy over him. Seeing a doctor would surely lead to his parents doing just that. And besides, everyone had sore muscles occasionally, it didn’t mean something was really wrong with his arm (He steadfastedly ignored the fact that it wasn’t just his arm anymore, and muscle pain didn’t usually last two months). If he asked Ratchet just to do a scan, he thought the Autobots might get a little fussy too. They were really a little too overprotective. But if he didn’t do _something_ , Mikaela would just stay pissed at him. _Overzealous parents or overprotective Autobots or overly-bitchy girlfriend…_ “All right, fine, I’ll ask Ratchet about it when they get together next week, okay?”

“Good.”

88888

When Mikaela opted out of attending the meeting of Autobots, Sam thought very briefly about “forgetting” his promise to talk to Ratchet. But to be honest, his arm was really bothering him, and he figured it really couldn’t cause too much harm to talk to the medic. Plus, he knew if he lied to Mikaela, she’d somehow know, and then he’d be screwed.

The lookout point really was nice during a sunset, and there were some beautiful sunsets in California. When Bumblebee and Sam pulled up, they saw that Optimus was already there, standing and gazing out at the horizon. Ironhide was as well, although Sarah had asked Will to stay home. Sam wished he could see the captain, but he couldn’t really begrudge him time with his wife and daughter. Ratchet pulled up a few seconds after Bumblebee had let Sam out and transformed.

As Bumblebee went over to talk with Optimus, Sam shuffled his feat awkwardly and asked Ratchet if he could talk to him for a second.

When they were a little ways away from the others, Sam sighed. “So…Mikaela asked me to talk to you, since I won’t go see a doctor. There’s something…wrong…with my arm. Not just my arm, either, but that’s where it started, and where it’s the worst.”

Ratchet held out his hand for Sam to clamber onto so he could life him up and get a better look. “When did this start, Sam?”

Sam looked away. “End of the battle,” he mumbled.

Ratchet glanced at him solemnly. “Did anything of particular relevance happen at the end of the battle?”

Sam started. “Optimus didn’t tell you?”

“He said only that Megatron’s energy had destroyed the Allspark, and in turn, the Allspark had destroyed him. He did not explain the details.”

Sam was grateful to the leader of the Autobots for having the insight to know that Sam didn’t want the whole hero of the world thing. “All right, look. Do Autobot medics have that whole confidentiality thing that doctors here do?”

“Whatever you tell me, I will keep between us if that is your wish, Sam,” Ratchet promised. “I would prefer to know what it is I am looking for before I do a scan.”

Sam sighed and nodded. “All right. Megatron didn’t just fall on the Allspark. Optimus had told me to push it into _his_ chest. I couldn’t let him sacrifice himself like that, and I knew Megatron had the same power he did. Megatron was leaning over me, and…I don’t remember really _thinking_. I just shoved the cube up, and it connected with his spark. I held it up until I couldn’t anymore. I think…it burned me. It’s hard to remember everything, but I know there was pain involved. At the time, all I cared about was that it killed the evil bastard, and the threat was over. But that’s about the same time my arm started bothering me. Not as bad as it is now, though.”

Ratchet was staring at him with something like Autobot-horror. “You maintained contact with the Allspark during its destruction?”

“Well, yeah, otherwise it would have fallen before it could be fully destroyed. Wasn’t my favorite option, believe me.”

“Oh dear…”

“…Ratchet? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Ratchet didn’t answer. He lifted Sam up until he was at eye-level, and began a blue-tinged scan of Sam’s arm. His expression never changed, but Sam thought he could detect an undercurrent of tension in him that was not common in the Autobots.

“Oh dear…” the medic said again, and Sam thought if it would do any good, he might punch him. “This…is not good.”

“Ratchet!” he finally yelled, and then realized that the other Autobots might start wondering what was going on if he didn’t keep somewhat quiet.

Ratchet stopped the scan and stared for a moment before releasing a sigh. “This will be difficult to explain, Sam, and I cannot promise you will understand all of it. I can almost guarantee you will not like it.”

Sam clenched his hand into a fist to stop it from shaking. This couldn’t possibly be good. “Tell me,” he finally said.

“The Allspark…connected with you, for lack of a better term. In an attempt at self-preservation, it tried to bond with you completely. Do not worry, it failed,” Ratchet said hastily, seeing Sam’s expression. “However, the attempt has had some…strange side effects on a molecular system that was not ready for such an intrusion. To start with, the bones in your arm are becoming denser, and metallic in nature. Not unlike the metal that makes up what we are. This has caused a change in the rest of your arm as well. There is no blood flowing through, only energy. Again, not unlike our own.”

“Wait, wait…energy from _where?_ ” Sam asked, wide-eyed.

“I’m getting to that, be patient,” Ratchet said. “It is not only your arm, but your shoulder and part of your chest as well. The metallic substance has almost completely taken over your bone structure in those areas. To compensate, the rest of your body has had to change as well. If I am correct, your skin is also changing as well, becoming thicker to offer a greater protection, though the appearance remains the same. I also believe this is spreading slowly, through your entire body.”

“And…and the energy source?”

“You chest and arm, and soon the rest of you as well, I believe, is being powered by a Spark that has bonded almost entirely to your human heart. They are too closely linked to be separated without causing irreversible harm to you.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Sam said, staring blankly off into the distance. “So I’m…what…becoming an Autobot?”

“No, not quite,” Ratchet said thoughtfully. “More of a hybrid. I do not believe your outward appearance will change all that drastically, if at all. But your entire internal structure is forming to become half Cybertronian and half human. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Sam swore and sat down heavily in Ratchet’s hand. “This is just way too fucking much. _Way_ too much. God damn it, what did I do in a past life to deserve this?”

Ratchet wisely chose not to say anything for a few minutes, only stood quietly and let Sam rant. The small human was obviously not equipped to handle such life-altering information without at least some degree of terror. After a few moments, when Sam seemed coherent enough for intelligent speech again, Ratchet spoke cautiously. “I do not know exactly what will happen, but I will help you in any way that I can. I don’t believe you should keep the others in the dark for long, though. Bumblebee is your guardian, and above that, he is your friend. He stayed with you for that friendship, not out of a sense of obligation.”

“I know,” Sam said quietly. “Ratchet, what do you think the long-term consequences of this will be? After it’s…finished changing everything inside me.”

The medic considered. “It is difficult to say with any sense of surety. However, I believe your life span will be significantly increased. Autobots have an incredibly long life span, as I’m sure you know. While you will still be partially human, the Spark will keep your human organs that are still necessary to you functioning for much longer than what is normal for your species.”

“But ‘much longer’, you mean…?”

“I would say at least half the life span of an Autobot.”

“Jesus,” Sam said again, dropping his head into his hands.

“I can stop, if you’d like, and give you time to absorb all of this,” Ratchet offered.  
“No…keep going. I’ll have to know eventually.”

“You will become much stronger than humans, as a rule, are capable of becoming. With a metallic bone structure, it will be much more difficult to hurt you internally. From what I have seen, I believe your human sight will mingle with a Cybertronian optic structure. I believe you will be able to switch back and forth between the two.”

“Guess that doesn’t sound all bad…” Sam sighed. “No transforming, huh?”

Ratchet shifted uncomfortable, in a very human-like gesture. Strange how much the Autobots picked up in such a short time.

“All right, what else aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. To be honest, I do not know what to tell you about that. Your bone structure would support the process, though with human skin, I cannot imagine how it would work. I wish I could tell you everything that will happen, but as I’ve said, I have never seen anything like this. I simply do not know.”

“God, I don’t believe this. Just when life couldn’t get any more complicated…”

“I am sorry, Sam. With everything you have done for all of us, you do not deserve the fate you have been given. You deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah, well, when was life ever fair?” Sam sighed again, and motioned for Ratchet to let him down. “Thanks, Ratchet. I appreciate you telling me the truth. I’m going to go grab Bumblebee and ask him to take me home, I can’t…I can’t stay here right now. I’m sorry to break up your gathering so quickly.”

“I understand. I will make excuses for you to Optimus and Ironhide, and leave you to tell Bumblebee whatever you choose.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll tell them…eventually. Just…need to wrap my own head around it first, y’know?”

“I do. Go, you should get your rest. This will take quite a bit out of you for the next few months, possibly longer. I will help in any way I can.”

Sam nodded and walked away on slightly unsteady feet. Ratchet watched with a fair amount of concern for the young human who had already been through so much so recently.

Sam reached the other Autobots and reached a hand out to Bumblebee to get his attention. “Bee?”

The big yellow Autobot knelt down to Sam. “Sam? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

Bumblebee’s concern really did mean a lot to him, but it wasn’t something he had any intention of discussing yet, especially in front of Optimus Prime. “I just…need to go home. Please.” His was terrified to hear his voice catch, and when he felt tears welling up in his eyes, he turned away quickly.

Bumblebee stood and spoke quickly to the others, then transformed and opened the door for Sam, who clambered in without a single look at the two curious Autobots left standing at the overlook.

After a few minutes of fast, tense driving, Bee switched the radio on. ‘ _Well I’d hoped that since we’re here anyway, That we could end up saying, Things we’ve always needed to say…_ ’

“Not right now, Bee, I can hardly think straight. Just…give me some time, okay?”

‘ _It’s the perfect time of day, To throw all your cares away…_ ’

“Yeah, right. If only it was that easy.” Sam clenched his hand into a fist, staring out the window, watching the scenery fly by, wondering what it would be like, frightened of what he knew was happening to him, angry for letting it happen in the first place… His emotions were completely jumbled and chaotic, and he felt like he was drowning in them. “Songs won’t make this better, Bumblebee. Just…not now. Please.”

Bumblebee’s radio stayed quiet, but Sam could tell he was still worried.

“Bee…I don’t want to go home tonight…is there anywhere else we can go that’s safe? Quiet?”

“ _Go on and dry those tears, Now come with me, I will take you someplace safe._ ”

“Thanks, Bee,” Sam said softly, closing his eyes and pressing his face against the cool glass of the window.

It was nearly an hour later when they pulled into a large clearing, just a little ways away from the main road they’d been driving on. Trees surrounded them except for a little gap leading to the road, and it was so small that Sam doubted anyone would be able to see them unless they were really searching. He didn’t ask where they were, just gratefully ran a hand over the steering wheel in thanks before climbing into the back and curling up on the seat, the way he hadn’t done since he was a small child, frightened on nightmares.

“Y’know, Bumblebee, I wouldn’t be opposed to some music, just to help me fall asleep…”

It was childish, and he knew it. His mother had always used to sing him to sleep when he was little, and it had always comforted him then. He hadn’t felt the need for it in a very long time, but music was the only thing he could think of to calm his shattered nerves, just enough to sleep a little bit.

The radio flipped on and landed on a quiet song. “ _Good night my angel time to close you eyes, And save these questions for another day, I think I know what you've been asking me, I think you know what I've been trying to say; I promised I would never leave you, And you should always know, Where ever you may go, No matter where you are, I never will be far away…_ ”

88888

**Song credits:**  
Nickelback - Someday  
Barenaked Ladies - Pinch Me  
To/Die/For - Farewell  
Billy Joel - Lullaby (Good Night My Angel) 


	2. Chapter 2

Sam slept soundly through the night, and woke to a dreary dawn and rain pattering against the roof of the Camaro. He was confused for a minute before the events of the previous night came back to him and he sat up with a groan. The engine was purring contentedly, creating a very relaxing vibration in the backseat, and the radio was currently set to very low classical music. The two things combined had probably been what got him through the night.

He clambered out of the car to stretch a little. The rain felt good, and he tilted his face up to the drops. Behind him, he heard Bumblebee shift into his Autobot form.

“Thanks for last night, Bee,” he said quietly, turning to his friend. “I couldn’t have dealt with going home. Honestly, I _still_ don’t want to, but my parents are going to kill me as it is.”

“Are you all right, Sam?”

It was the way Bumblebee asked the question – not “What’s wrong?” or “What happened?”, only “Are you all right?” – that convinced him Ratchet had been right about what he’d said the night before. Bumblebee was his friend, first and foremost.

“I will be. I _have_ to be. Just might take me a little while.” Sam swallowed against the rising tide of fear he felt whenever he thought about ‘a little while’. How long would that be, he wondered, when he suddenly had what amounted to his own little eternity? “Bee, how old are you?”

The question seemed to surprise the Autobot, and he actually had to stop and think about it. “We do not measure our lives in terms of years. We did not even have ‘years’ on Cybertron. If I measure it backwards, I would have to say I was created approximately twenty thousand years ago. But that is an educated guess, at best.”

“Oh…damn.” Sam rubbed at his forehead. “And…how long do you think you’ll live?”

“That question is even more difficult to answer. I have never yet seen a Cybertronian die of old age, only of battle wounds. Even in the time of peace on our planet, there were none whom I would have considered ‘old’ in the way humans think of the term.” Bumblebee cocked his head at Sam. “Why is it you ask?”

Sam started pacing, a habit he had picked up from his father when he was very young. He paced whenever he was feeling off-balanced by anything. Right now, he was a whirlwind of “off-balance”. “I don’t want to live forever, Bee. I don’t want to go through years and years of watching Mikaela and Miles and Will and Maggie get old and die while I’m just sitting on the sidelines, not really living because what the hell will I have to live _for?_ ”

“I do not understand what you’re talking about, Sam.”

Sam stopped his incessant pacing as abruptly as he had started and sat down on the wet grass, clenching and unclenching his first, trying to battle the rising tide of panic threatening to wash him away. “I found out last night that Optimus never told you guys what happened during those last few moments of the battle. I’m surprised that you never asked me.”

“It seemed to be something best left alone. I thought that you would explain it to me in your own time, when the battle was not so fresh in your mind.”

“Yeah…” Sam rubbed at his forehead. “I talked to Ratchet last night. Mikaela was bugging me to go see a doctor, and he was the closest I was willing to get. My arm…it’s been feeling pretty sore for a while now. I figured talking to Ratchet wouldn’t hurt, wouldn’t make my parents get all over-protective, and would get ‘Kaela off my back. Did you know that the Allspark is…was…sentient?”

If Bumblebee was confused by the random nature of topics Sam was hitting on, he did not show it. “It is something we suspected, but never had proof of,” he answered simply. Wherever these questions were going, Sam would get there. The small Autobot would not push his friend.

“Yeah, well, someone might have warned me about the possibility before I shoved it into Megatron’s Spark.”

Bumblebee stared. “Sam…you are telling me that it was _you_ who destroyed Megatron? Optimus led us to believe…”

“I think he knew I didn’t really want to deal with everyone treating me like a hero or something. Far as I know, only him and Mikaela knew the truth. I thought he had told all you guys, until Ratchet gave me that same look you’re giving me right now. But yeah. I killed the bastard, and destroyed the Allspark, and life was great. All my friends are alive and mostly not hurt. I have a kick-ass car, a super-model girlfriend, and parents who basically let me do whatever I want as long as I can come up with a good story. What more could a guy ask for?” His nails were digging into his palm. He forced himself to unclench his hand, and was only a little surprised to see little crescent shaped cuts embedded in his hand. He dearly wished the cuts were bleeding, but instead, he saw little sparks of electricity jumping around in the cuts, slowly healing them. He closed his hand quickly, the reminder too much for his chaotic mind to deal with right now. “God _damn_ it!” he yelled, startling Bumblebee.

“Sam…?”

“D’you remember, right after the battle, the way I slept for like, three straight days? Everybody thought it was my way of coping with everything I saw, everything I did, but I think I figured out what it really was. That was the time the damn Spark was connecting itself to my heart.”

The yellow Autobot jerked as though stung, then crouched down very low to stare at Sam. “ _What?_ ”

Sam swallowed thickly. “Ratchet says that the Allspark was trying to save itself, probably by bonding with the closest thing to it. Megatron was already dying, so, since I was holding the damn thing, I guess I was the logical next choice. If it had had any longer, I guess it might have succeeded, but as it was… Before it was destroyed completely, it had enough time to…alter me, I guess. It created a Spark inside me like you have and started changing my whole internal structure. Ratchet said that my arm is already basically completely changed…the bones are all metallic, and it’s functioning with energy from the Spark, not blood. He said it’s spreading through my whole body. I won’t _look_ different, but… He used the word _hybrid_. Guess it fits. Not really human anymore, definitely not Autobot. I’ll still have some of the organs and stuff I need now to function, like my heart and stuff. I don’t really get how it all works, Ratchet could probably explain it better. Hell, he probably _did_.” Sam opened his hand again, stared at the tiny electric sparks still mending the cuts. He slowly held it out to Bumblebee. “I probably won’t even bleed at all, pretty soon.”

Bumblebee stared at his young human’s hand, then looked back at Sam, into his eyes. He let out a sound almost like a hiss when he saw, deep in their depths, a lightning-blue flash. Sam turned away quickly, taking his hand back and clutching it to his chest.

“Ratchet told me a whole bunch about what kind of effects I could expect this to have on me. The one I remember most is him telling me I’ll probably have half the life span of a typical Autobot.” Slowly, very slowly, he turned tortured eyes back to Bumblebee. “What’s half of forever, Bee?”

“Oh, Sam…” There were no words, no song, that could accurately describe what he felt for the young human then. Instead, he reached out a hand for Sam to climb onto, and held him gently as Sam finally began to cry.

88888

Later, much later, when excuses had been made to his parents, and Bumblebee had quietly left to go and speak with Ratchet, and Mojo had been given a pain pill that he no longer really needed, Sam sat on his bed, staring unseeingly at the cracks that ran through his wall and up into the ceiling. He had thought, when he and Bumblebee had quietly left the clearing, that he simply had no more tears left to give. He had felt empty, drained, and numb to everything around him. Now, he was learning he had been mistaken. The fear and the anger and the grief had not dried up, only been temporarily squashed, and they were returning now with a vengeance that Megatron would have been proud of.

He stared down at his hand, now completely healed over, and was suddenly overcome with a wave of rage that would have shocked and probably horrified him if he had been thinking clearly. He stood and flew at his desk, slamming the drawer open, searching around until he found what he was looking for and held it up victoriously. He flicked the tiny pocket knife open, and without even the slightest pause, brought it down on his other arm…the one that had not yet been affected by the Allspark.

He brought the arm up and stared as a red line welled up immediately, and a drop of blood slowly trickled its way down toward his elbow. He was so entranced by the sight, and by the calm feeling it brought with it, that he did not hear his door open, and wasn’t aware that anyone had entered his room until Mikaela spun him around by his arm (the bad one, that one that was no longer his own but some other Samuel James Witwicky’s arm because it couldn’t be his, see, his arm could _bleed_ and here was the proof…) and slapped him, hard, across the face. Without even breaking stride, she had grabbed one of the t-shirts littering his floor, torn a strip off of it, and wrapped it around the arm he had cut, quickly and effectively cutting off the flow of blood.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you, Sam?” she yelled, dragging him back over to the other side of the room and shoving him backwards onto the bed.

“I…I…I had to…” Sam stopped, staring blankly around him before looking down at the makeshift bandage covering his arm. The realization of what he had been doing slammed into him, choking him, and his vision darkened for a moment. “Oh, Jesus…”

“Hey,” Mikaela said, an angry and confused spark in her eyes. She knelt down in front of him. “Don’t black out on me, Sam. What happened there? This isn’t like you.”

“I can’t…don’t make me talk about it…not ready to…not yet…” He was practically begging, and it struck him that he really was being pathetic, but he couldn’t seem to help it, having lost all control over his mouth on top of everything else. “ _Please_ , Mikaela, not yet…”

“That won’t work, Sam,” she hissed angrily. “I come in here and see you mutilating yourself, and you want me to just forget it and not worry about it? Yeah, right. Tell me what happened so we can work on making it better.”

“None of your damn business!” he shouted, and then immediately wished he hadn’t.

She stood up so suddenly she rapped her arm into a shelf and knocked Mojo’s pill bottle off. Neither of them seemed to notice. A hurt expression flickered across her features before she had time to school the expression into a blank mask.

“’Kaela…”

“No,” she said, softly. “I get it. I’ll just go. I’ll see you around, Sam.”

He was left staring at an empty room and an open doorway. _Hell, it’s probably better this way. She won’t even want to stay with me, once she finds this out. And even if she did, I couldn’t do that to her. She’s better off thinking I used her, like one of the jocks she used to have such huge crushes on._ The thought should have saddened him, but instead it only made him angry. In one fell swoop, he had lost all control over his entire life. By saving the world he loved, he had distanced himself from it, and damned himself to never be able to enjoy what it had to offer again. _I must have really fucked up in a past life_ , was the bizarre thought that passed in and out of his mind before the wave overtook him again, and he fell to his knees on the floor, clutching his head, grief pouring out of him in shuddering, gasping sobs. Fear of the unknown clutched at his throat, and grief for those he hadn’t lost yet tore at his heart, until he was left shaking and weak, an empty shell where there had once been a lively teenage boy.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ratchet, surely there must be something you can do!” Bumblebee said, agitated. The two Autobots were standing together on the cliff, Bumblebee having sent the older Autobot a message an hour ago saying he had to meet with him immediately.

“I told you, I cannot remove the Spark without killing him.” Ratchet let out a sound almost like a growl. “The Spark is too closely linked with his heart, and is already powering a sizeable part of his body. Even if there were some type of miraculous procedure I could do to remove it, he would lose the use of his right arm and one of his lungs. He would probably barely be able to move the upper right side of his body at all. But it can’t even be tested, because the heart is now relying on the Spark to keep it functioning. There is _nothing_ I can do, Bumblebee!” The medic was edgy, almost as much so as Bumblebee, knowing there was nothing either of them could do for the young human.

“Sam would rather die than spend countless years watching everyone he cares about grow old and die and fade to little more than a memory. This will destroy him in a way death never could.” Bumblebee sighed, staring out into the horizon. The sun was just beginning to head into the west, in a few short hours darkness would come.

“You must have faith in him, Bumblebee. Sam is strong, for a human. He may yet make it through this. All we can do is help him adjust. He will not go through this alone.”

“But don’t you see Ratchet? He _is_ alone. There is no other like him in the entire galaxy. He no longer belongs with his own species, and he will never be one of us. No matter how much of a friend we are to him, it can’t be enough!” Bumblebee was not normally one given over to anything like rage, but more than anything right now, he longed to fling something – preferably something large – over the edge of the cliff and watch it shatter on the rocks below.

Ratchet was about to respond, but then he perked his head up, listening intently. “Someone is approaching. I believe it is Mikaela.”

“She was supposed to be visiting Sam today,” Bumblebee replied, confused. Had something happened? Why wasn’t Sam with her?

“She is giving off a lot of energy…I believe it is anger.” Ratchet actually looked worried. “This cannot be good.”

They didn’t have long to wait. Mikaela stormed out from the trees surrounding them, looking angrier than Bumblebee had ever seen her. She looked as though her eyes should start glowing red.

“Mikaela -” he began as she marched up to them.

“Oh, no. You don’t get to talk right now,” she yelled. “The only thing you get to do is explain to me what the hell is going on with my boyfriend, because obviously _something_ must be up, and he’s not talking.”

Bumblebee glanced at Ratchet, but received no help from that end. The older Autobot was looking back and forth between the two and remaining absolutely silent. Bumblebee looked back at the girl, a bit nervously. “Mikaela, Sam needs time to sort through things right now. I’m sure that given time, he will wish to speak with you about it.”

“ _Given time?_ ” she repeated, her voice a hiss. “In _time_ , he’ll probably kill himself! Do you know what he was doing when I walked into his house? He was slicing open his arm with a pocket knife and staring at the blood like it was the most fascinating thing in the world!”

Bumblebee felt himself shiver. “Oh, Sam…” he murmured. “Don’t do this to yourself…” He glanced back at Ratchet, who was now looking worried. “I have to go and make sure he’s all right,” the younger Autobot said, already beginning the process of transforming.

“Hey! Tell me what’s going on! _Bumblebee!_ ” Mikaela shouted after him, but Bumblebee was already speeding away, leaving her glaring at the empty spot he had been standing in. She turned back to Ratchet desperately. “Ratchet, please. I want to help him, but I can’t do anything if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Ratchet sighed. “I am sorry, Mikaela. I gave Sam my word I would not tell anyone. You should trust that when he is ready, he will come to you himself. For now, he just needs the support of those who love him, with no pressure.”

“He just looked so…lost…” she said, tears forming in her pretty eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone look that empty before… I want to help him, Ratchet.”

He nodded in understanding. “Then tell him that when you see him next. And do not demand answers he is not yet ready to give. Only Bumblebee and I know what is troubling him, he has not even informed Optimus. I don’t know if that makes you feel any better, but you are not alone in the dark.”

She sighed, relenting, knowing she would get nothing more from the medic. “I was so horrible to him… I wouldn’t blame him if he never wants to speak to me again. I was just so scared, seeing him like that, I never thought that maybe he just _couldn’t_ talk about it.”

“He will understand,” Ratchet assured her as he transformed. “Come, I will take you home, where you can call him if you’d like.”

She nodded. “Thanks, I’d like that.” She climbed in to the passenger seat and sighed a little, staring out the window. “I just hope he’ll at least talk to Bee.”

88888

Bumblebee was faced with a dilemma. He had to get to Sam, but Sam was inside in his room, where no car or Autobot could possibly get to. If he beeped to get Sam’s attention, it would alert Sam’s parents, who knew nothing about Bumblebee and the other Autobots, and who would wonder why an empty car was beeping at their house. There was only one other option, and it was one that Bumblebee had not yet mastered. Still, he had to try.

He focused. With one specific goal in mind, he used all the extra energy from his spark he could muster and molded it into what he needed. The hologram shimmered and came to life standing just outside the car. It flickered, and Bumblebee concentrated harder until he was sure it would be substantial enough for what he needed. Then he released himself into the hologram the way Optimus had tried for years to teach him how to do.

It was strange, to see things at the eye level of a normal human. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell, more nervous than he wanted to let on to the Witwicky family. When the door opened and Sam’s mother poked his head out, he forced a smile onto his holographic face. “Mrs. Witwicky?” he said, projecting his voice into the image he was so desperately holding onto, forcing the image’s lips to move in the way the should as he spoke the words. “I’m a friend of Sam’s, I was hoping I could speak to him.”

Her face broke out into a wide smile. “Oh, of course! Come in, come in, Sam is up in his room. He’s not feeling too well at the moment, so try not to stay too long, okay? It’s right up those stairs, at the end of the hall.”

He nodded his thanks to her and carefully walked up the stairs and toward Sam’s room. It was hard – the farther he got from the car, the more concentration it took to keep the projection going. Keeping it solid took even more strength of will, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could make it last. If the hologram failed, his perception would blink right back into his actual body, and he would be very disoriented for a few hours…not something he cared to experience. But it was _Sam_ , he had to try.

He knocked softly on Sam’s door, and heard a muffled, “Mikaela, go home, I can’t talk about this!” It sounded very much like his human had been crying, and Bumblebee felt a pain in his spark at the thought.

“It’s not Mikaela,” he said, grasping the doorknob and letting himself in.

He was prepared for the worst, but seeing Sam sitting on the ground, leaning against the bed, knees drawn up protectively, still made him want to take the young man in his arms and just hold him. It was a feeling Bumblebee was unaccustomed to, but this was, after all, Sam, and Sam had always brought out emotions in him much stronger than he had felt before he had come to Earth.

“Bee?” Sam asked, a bit of awe in his voice. He must have been crying for some time. His voice sounded raw and scratchy. “What the heck…”

“It would have been exceedingly difficult to drive myself into your house and up the stairs. This was the next best thing,” Bee said by way of explanation, glancing briefly into the mirror in Sam’s room. It was disconcerting, seeing a human instead of his normal reflection. He had molded his looks after Captain Lennox, but changed the hair color to blond and the eyes to blue. His clothing was based off a yellow jacket he had seen in a store window with black stripes on the arm, and black jeans with a plain black t-shirt. He hoped it was an acceptable appearance, but since he had not received strange looks from Sam’s mother, he thought it must be. Shaking himself from those thoughts, he walked over and stood in front of Sam. “If I suddenly blink out of existence, it means I have lost control over the hologram. I have not yet mastered this, and I am surprised I made it this far. But I had to make sure you were all right. Mikaela seemed very concerned.”

Sam flinched. “You saw Mikaela? Did you…did…”

“I did not tell her what was troubling you. I don’t believe Ratchet would break his confidence either. She was simply concerned, and demanding answers was her way of dealing with it.” Bee knelt down and grasped Sam’s bandaged arm gently. “Sam, why did you do this?” he asked.

Sam dropped his head down onto his knees. “I don’t know…it’s hard to explain. I just felt so…out of control. Like I wasn’t _me_ anymore, and I needed some kind of proof that Sam Witwicky still existed. It was stupid, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I was not going to tell you that it was. I know this must be very difficult for you, and you needed some way of coping. But harming yourself is not the answer, Sam, I hope you know that. I was very worried when Mikaela told us what she had seen.”

“I know…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry everybody.” Sam trembled a little. “I’m so scared, Bee.”

Bumblebee felt his hologram flicker and rebelled against it. His energy reserve was running dangerously low, but he didn’t care. “What can I do, Sam? I do not want to feel so…useless…while you are suffering through so much.”

Sam finally smiled a little. “Keep being my best friend, Bee. That’ll be good enough. And maybe…take me back to that place tonight? I don’t want to stay here and pretend everything is okay. I can sneak out when my parents go to bed.”

The hologram flickered again. “You have my word, I will not leave you, Sam. And when you are ready to escape, I will take you back there whenever you feel the need.” His optics, even though he was channeling them through the hologram, were going dim. Sam finally seemed to notice something was wrong.

“Bee?” he asked hesitantly.

“I must…go into stasis. I cannot…hold this…much…” The word _longer_ disappeared, along with the blond-haired-blue-eyed human projection of Sam’s best friend.

Concerned, Sam stood and looked out the window. Bumblebee must have used a ton of energy to do what he had, and it warmed Sam to know his friend cared so much. “Thanks, Bee,” he murmured, though he knew the Autobot couldn’t hear him and was, indeed, experiencing the Autobot version of sleep.

With a sigh, he picked up his cell phone and flipped it open, prepared to try and take his life one day at a time.

88888

“’Kaela?”

Relief filled her, and Mikaela gripped her phone tightly, closing her eyes against the onslaught of emotion coursing through her. “Sam. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I. ‘Kaela, I’m not ready to talk about it. But I don’t want to push you so far away you never look back, either.”

“I know. I talked to Ratchet, he helped me understand a little. I wish you could tell me what was going on, but I won’t push it, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Mikaela.”

She was silent for a few seconds, not wanting to ask her next question, but knowing she had to. “Sam…are _we_ okay?”

And, bless him, he knew what she meant, knew she wasn’t just talking about them as two separate beings, but as a couple. His silence spoke volumes, and she knew before he spoke the words that the answer wasn’t going to be a happy one. Her heart plummeted, but she steeled herself to stick to her promise to stay by his side. “’Kaela…that’s not something I can answer right now. You deserve so much, and I…there’s so much going on you can’t understand yet, so much I _wish_ I was ready to tell you… You mean so much to me, you can’t even imagine. That’s why I have to say all this. I can’t…keep you, in this new life I have. I wish…”

“It’s okay, Sam,” she said softly. “You’re just being honest. I _don’t_ understand, but I know you have a good reason. You always do, for everything.” Her throat closed a little as the tears threatened to fall, but she pressed onwards. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Sam. Even if we’re not… Even then, you’re stuck with me.”

“I don’t deserve so much of what I’ve been given.” She could tell his words meant more than just what they were on the surface, could tell he was talking about the bad as well as the good, and it made her wonder even more what could possibly be so bad that it was destroying someone like Sam.

“Sam?” she said, so quietly she wondered if he even heard her. “Sam, no matter what happens…I’m really glad I got in that car with you.”

He was silent on the other end, but she thought he heard him softly crying, and her heart constricted in her chest. “I’ll see you later, okay ‘Kaela?” His voice sounded raw and wounded.

She swallowed, wanting to say so much, knowing there was really nothing she _could_ say. For now, she just had to let him be, and had to trust that when the time came, he would allow her to be there for him. One deep breath, and then another. “Okay. Bye, Sam.” Three words had never taken such an effort.

He hung up the phone, and she found herself feeling more empty than she ever had, even after the countless breakups she had endured over the years and the not-so-perfect life she had lived. She hugged herself tightly and stared miserably out at the darkening sky.


	4. Chapter 4

What began was a routine. Sam did his best to get through each day. He talked at length with Bumblebee and Ratchet about any strange symptoms he felt, discussed what he could expect still to happen. He very carefully made sure to act as normally as possible when in the vicinity of his parents. Mikaela kept to herself for a full week, and just when he was sure she would never speak to him again (which he could never have blamed her for), she began to call him every couple of days to see how he was doing, always careful not to pry more deeply than he was willing to share. At night, when his parents had gone to bed and he thought he could get away with it, he snuck out to Bumblebee, who would drive him to what they now considered “their spot”. Sometimes they would stay up all night talking, about any number of things. Other times, Sam would simply curl up in the backseat and fall asleep to whatever music Bumblebee deemed appropriate.

Within two weeks, the alien metal that was taking over his bone structure had spread throughout most of the left side of his body. His movement on that side was slightly impaired for a while, especially his leg. The change left him feeling incredibly sore while his body adjusted, and he could tell it was spreading more rapidly now than it had been. Whenever he felt a twinge of pain, or thought about what was happening inside him, he still felt that surge of overwhelming fear, but he liked to think he had mastered the control it had had over him at the beginning.

Optimus Prime had started asking Ratchet questions, and Sam was dodging e-mails from Will Lennox, e-mails that had a distinctly Ironhide feel to them. He had a feeling that the weapons specialist was also doing some digging for Optimus, but so far, Ratchet hadn’t betrayed his confidence and he had successfully avoided all of Will’s too-personal questions. He was not naïve enough to believe it would last forever, but neither would he be coerced into telling anyone. He would tell them when he was good and ready. A part of him hoped that time came soon. A much larger part still cowered in fear.

In the midst of all of it, there was the knowledge that senior year would be starting soon, and a whole new cache of worries and stresses that would come along with it. Sam was very consciously trying not to think about it, but his parents were bugging him about back to school shopping, the weather was starting to mellow, and the calendar was inching its way toward the first week of September. No matter what other problems he had, this was one that would not disappear. So finally, grudgingly, he borrowed his parents’ credit card and hopped into his car.

“Are we picking anyone up to go with you?” Bumblebee asked as Sam started the engine (not that it was really necessary…Bee could start himself, but he was still trying to keep up appearances around his parents.

Sam sighed. “I was thinking about calling Mikaela, but I’m not sure how eager she would be to go with me school shopping.”

“I think she would be happy to be included in anything that meant you two were still friends. That is something she does not want to lose.”

Bumblebee, ever the voice of wisdom. “I guess you’re right…” Sam said, flipping open his cell phone. He still had her on speed dial, but he opted to type the number in, hoping the extra few seconds would boost his confidence a bit. Aside from those few short conversations every few days, they hadn’t really spoken since the “incident”, let alone seen each other.

“Hello?” She sounded tired and Sam cursed himself again for being such a source of worry for her.

“’Kaela…hi…”

“Sam!” She sounded shocked, and he realized that she was always the one to call him the past few weeks, not the other way around. Another wave of guilt washed through him.

“Hey. Umm…my parents have been bugging me to go school shopping, and I finally gave in. I was…wondering if maybe you wanted to come with. Seemed like something friends should do together, y’know?” It sounded so lame to his own ears, but when Mikaela spoke again, sounding so excited, he felt a little of the guilt seep away.

“I would love to go, I have to get my shopping done too! I’m so glad you asked, Sam! Can you come pick me up, or should I meet you guys at the mall?”

“We’ll come and get you,” he replied. “See you soon.”

“Great! Bye, Sam.” She hung up, the click sounding loud in his ear, and he slowly closed the phone and shoved it back in his pocket.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, Bee.”

“I just thought you should be made aware that you’re smiling. You so rarely do it anymore that I thought you might want to enjoy it to the fullest extent possible.”

Damned if his car didn’t sound smug. But it didn’t stop Sam from laughing, and it was the first time he had laughed in what felt like years. “Let’s go, smart-ass,” he said, and Bee’s engine revved in response.

88888

He hadn’t actually thought that shopping for clothes and book covers could ever be an enjoyable experience, but he found himself surprised. Mikaela had always had a sense of humor, could turn anything into a joke, and she had steadfastedly avoided talking about anything at all that could dampen his mood. How she knew precisely what topics to avoid, he could only guess at, but he was grateful nonetheless. After two hours of shopping, they went to the food court for ice cream, and she told him all kinds of tales about her summer exploits. It turned out she had flown out to visit Maggie and Glenn for a week, the week he hadn’t heard from her at all, and the three were becoming fast friends. She also reported that her father was coming up on his parole hearing in a few weeks, and that things were looking good there as well. He listened to all of it with rapt attention, laughing and joking and smiling in a way that still felt somewhat foreign to him, and when finally it started getting dark out and they agreed she should be getting home, he realized he didn’t want to say goodbye to her.

“Tell you what,” Mikaela said, flinging her bags into the backseat. “Before I go home, why don’t we go to the park? We can walk around, talk some more, reminisce about days when there was no such thing as putting off summer homework assignments…”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, that sounds great. You mind, Bee?”

“Of course not,” the Autobot replied, sounding for all the world like he thought Sam was stupid for even asking.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry for politely asking. Next time I’ll just say, ‘Bumblebee, drive! Good boy!’”

The park was only ten minutes away. The night was a warm one, and the darkening sky was completely clear. Sam and Mikaela walked in silence for a few minutes before she finally glanced over at him and tentatively asked, “Are you okay, Sam?”

He sighed, contemplating the question. _Was_ he okay? He was coping, to be sure. He’d always been good at that, although this kind of took the cake as far as “largest problem imaginable” was concerned. “I think I’m getting there. Today’s been a really good day, ‘Kaela. Probably one of the best I’ve had since Mission City. But overall, there are moments I still feel like I’m drowning. I would have been overwhelmed enough with keeping the Autobots’ secret, lying to my parents, and dealing with senior year. With what’s going on now…”

“I promised I wouldn’t pry into whatever it is, but Sam…you know I’m here when you’re ready to talk about it. I’m always here for you. Okay?”

He stopped walking and touched her arm, gently turning her to face him. “I know, ‘Kaela, and that means the world to me. But you have to know…I meant what I said, before. About us. It just…wouldn’t be fair to you. It can’t happen. You get that, right?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “But I respect your decision anyway. I’m your friend. I’ve been your friend since that first day you offered me a ride home, and I’m gonna continue being your friend for a long time. Okay?”

He smiled a little. “Okay.”

“C’mon, we should get back. Don’t want your parents freaking out.”

They hadn’t walked very far, and within a few minutes they were within sight of the Camaro. But there were figures moving around Bumblebee, and with a sinking feeling, Sam realized he recognized them.

“Trent,” he muttered.

“And his goons. What the hell do they think they’re doing?”

But Sam knew. He could see the crowbar in Trent’s hand, see the way he tapped it thoughtfully against the ground while he stared at Bumblebee. Heart in his throat, he began running, Mikaela close behind him. There wasn’t enough time though, and before he even had a chance to yell out, Trent had lifted the long piece of metal and swung it as hard as he could at the driver’s side window.

The glass shattered, and a piece of it may as well have pierced straight through Sam. He knew Bumblebee would take the pain, knew the Autobot would never consider revealing his race to these jerks. Tent was lifting the crowbar again, and this time, Sam found his voice in time. “Get the _fuck_ away from my car!” he bellowed.

Trent was obviously surprised, but when he caught sight of Sam with Mikaela trailing behind him, he smirked. “Well, well. We were just having a little fun, Willicker. No need to get your panties in a knot.”

Sam had reached them, and he stopped, gritting his teeth. “It’s _Witwicky_ , you asshole, and I said _get away from my car!_ ”

“You heard him, Trent,” Mikaela said angrily, stopping beside Sam. He reached out and unobtrusively touched Bumblebee in reassurance.

“Geez, now you need a girl fighting your battles?” Trent said, his whole attitude mocking. “And Mikaela, how the hell did you end up with this dweeb anyway? I thought you had taste.”

“Apparently I didn’t until very recently. Are you going or not?”

He paused and pretended to think about it, then shook his head with a grin. “Not,” he declared, and motioned to one of the jocks who had crept up to stand behind her. It took seconds for her to be totally pinned up against him and Sam to be knocked to the ground by Trent’s swinging fist. Sam swallowed hard, backing up against the car, trying to think of some way out of this that wouldn’t get him or Mikaela hurt. He felt Bumblebee shudder against him, and raised a hand to stop the Autobot from transforming. He didn’t think Trent would really do anything, it wasn’t worth the risk yet.

“Now see, this is better,” Trent said, standing over Sam, tapping the crowbar against the ground again. “Easier to talk when we’re all in our rightful places, eh, Witticky?”

Sam didn’t bother trying to correct him this time, but he forced a cocky grin on his face despite his pounding heartbeat. “Aww, is this your way of coming out of the closet, Trent? Who woulda thought.”

It seemed that was enough to send Trent over the edge. He kicked out at Sam, getting him hard in the ribs. While Sam knew it should have hurt a lot more than it did, he still curled inward, groaning. “ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed out between his teeth, and glanced up just in time to see Trent hoisting the crowbar above his head.

It all happened so fast, but forever afterward, Sam would swear it felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Mikaela screamed, struggling violently to break the grip Tent’s sidekick had on her. Bumblebee shuddered again, obviously in agony letting this happen to Sam, but Sam had held his hand up again, stalling the Camaro.

The crowbar swung up, Tent’s face set in an angry scowl, and then it swung down again, flying straight at Sam’s prone form on the ground. At the last moment, Sam lifted his arm, hoping to at least deflect the blow away from his head. He closed his eyes, prayed silently for the best, and let the blow come.

The sound of metal on metal rent the air, and in its echo, all went perfectly still.

“What the _hell_ kind of freak _are_ you?” Trent shouted, dropping the pole and backing away.

Sam chanced opening his eyes. The first thing he saw was Trent’s face, and it was pale as milk. He looked up at his arm. His metal, robotic arm.

Through sheer force of will, he calmed himself enough to continue breathing, and ever so slowly, his heartbeat slowed. Before his eyes, dark metal shifted to pale flesh, plates of heavy armor melding together to become flawless skin again.

He looked up at Mikaela, terror in his eyes, and dawning understanding lit hers. She shoved the guy who had been holding her back and swiftly knelt down next to Sam, rubbing his back soothingly. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered, before standing once again and taking a step toward Trent.

“You’ve been drinking,” she said, and her voice was soft and menacing all at the same time. “All three of you, I’m willing to bet, are drunk out of your minds.”

Trent nodded, almost too quickly. “Completely drunk,” he whispered. “Have to be.”

“Exactly. And if you decide at any point in the future that you _weren’t_ drunk tonight, I swear to God you’ll find out just how much of a bitch I can be. And the cops are going to get some interesting stories about just what type of _merchandise_ you’re hiding in your basement. I trust I’ve made myself clear?”

He nodded, backing away again. The two guys who were with him followed him as he turned and ran, presumably for the parking lot and the safety of his truck.

“If he says anything…” Sam said, so quietly he wasn’t sure at first she‘d heard him. She turned back and knelt next to him again.

“He won’t. I’ve seen Trent drunk before, and he never would have even started this trouble if he wasn’t so damn wasted. He won’t even remember most of this in the morning. Sam…”

“Not now,” he said. “Please, not now.”

She nodded and helped him to his feet. He immediately turned to Bumblebee. “Are you all right, Bee?” He ran a hand over the hood of the car.

“I can still function. I have dealt with pain much worse than this, and Ratchet will be able to make the necessary repairs. Sam, I am sorry I didn’t -”

“Hey, I stopped you, remember? You would have helped, and then you would have really given away everything. Trent may forget an incident while trying to beat up a seventeen year old kid, but he isn’t likely to forget a twenty-foot-tall robot beating up _him_. It’s okay, Bee, don’t be mad at yourself.”

“Are you…”

“Fine.” Sam knew his voice sounded sharper than intended, just as he knew he really wasn’t fine, not now. “We should get Mikaela home and go see Ratchet.”

Without another word, without even a glance at the girl standing beside him, he opened the driver’s side door, swiped out the fragmented glass pieces that littered the seat, got in, and slammed the door shut.

None of them spoke a word on the drive, and when Mikaela got out at her house, Sam just nodded to her. “I’ll call you. Later. I promise.”

And then him and Bee were speeding off toward the lookout point, the only safe place they knew to call Ratchet to.

When they got there, however, Ratchet was already there. Along with Optimus, Ironhide, and Will Lennox.


	5. Chapter 5

“So what the hell is all this?” Sam asked, with no real malice. He was just too tired to be as angry as he thought he might have otherwise been. “Ratchet?”

The medic sniffed angrily, a gesture so human it almost made Sam smile. The Autobots really had been on Earth for a while now. “These three,” he said, gesturing with a wave at Optimus, Ironhide and Will, “decided it was time for an intervention. They called me here demanding I answer all of their questions, and threatened that if I did not, they would be forced to uncover the answers by any means necessary.” He shot a glare at Optimus. “I expected better from the leader of the Autobots. Apparently he believes that if I was harboring a truly dangerous secret, I would not tell him. Since this is not, for the moment, such a secret, I told him very calmly that he could go straight to hell.”

Ironhide started to speak, and his arm twitched. “Shut up,” Sam said angrily before he could get very far. “You want answers? That’s fine, really, I get it. I probably should have told you weeks ago. But right at this moment? Bumblebee needs to see Ratchet, and I need some of my own questions answered before I start talking to anyone, so go away. _Far_ away. I’m so mad at all of you it’s ridiculous. Just…go. I’ll have Bumblebee or Ratchet contact you when we’re done.”

For the first time, they all seemed to notice that Bumblebee had not yet transformed, and was indeed not in the best condition. Optimus looked ready to speak, but a sharp glance from Ratchet stopped him. “I’ll trust you can find your way out of here,” the medical officer said curtly. “I must attend to my patients. And trust that I will be doing periodic scans of the area. Since you have deemed Sam, Bumblebee and I untrustworthy, I believe I am within my rights to determine the same of you.” Without another word, he turned and swiftly began examining Bumblebee, kneeling on the ground so that the yellow Autobot wouldn’t have to transform, which is his current state could be painful.

Sam watched in a detached sort of way as Optimus and Ironhide transformed, waiting only long enough for Lennox to climb into the black truck before speeding away. “I’m sorry, Ratchet,” he said softly. “I didn’t think they would corner you like that.”

“It is not your fault, Sam.” Ratchet spoke while continually running scans on Bumblebee. “Optimus can be rather forceful when he is kept in the dark, no matter if it’s his business to know or not. The war did that to him, and while we have a right to be angry for the way he went about it tonight, I don’t think we can hold it against him either.”

“I should have told him sooner.” Sam sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.

“You were not yet ready to deal with it on your own, you couldn’t have been expected to disclose the information to others. Optimus should have been able to understand that.”

“You told him basically that if it were a dangerous secret, you would have told him. How do you know it’s _not?_ ”

Still not pausing in whatever it was he was doing, Ratchet sighed. “It will become so, I believe, once you begin transmitting Cybertronian signals. I believe that will happen soon, with the way the transformation has begun to speed up. Once that happens, and you may not even realize it has, the Decepticons will be able to pick them up. They will become very curious.”

Understanding dawned on Sam. “I’ll bring them here again. God, they’ll come straight for me!”

“They will not get you,” Bumblebee all but growled.

“Hush, Bumblebee,” Ratchet admonished. “There will be no talking from you while I am working.” The Camaro obediently stayed silent. “Yes, Sam, I believe they may. They have not come sooner because Starscream is still regrouping. We do not know what has happened to Barricade, but Starscream will track down other reinforcements and bring them back to Earth with him. The other Autobots and I have also blocked our signals, so none outside of our own circle can pick them up. You will not have the ability to do the same until we can teach you how, and that may take time. I do not even know if it will be possible. There is still much I cannot determine about what this transformation is doing to you, and how the human half will affect the Cybertronian half is a question mark until it is complete.”

Sam sighed again. “Well, you’re about to get some of the blanks filled in. My left arm transformed tonight.”

Ratchet paused for the slightest instant, the only sign that he was surprised. “Transformed how, exactly?”

“’Kaela and I were at the park. We were only gone a few minutes, but it was enough for one of the high school jocks to decide he wanted to hurt my car. That’s how the window got bashed in…a crowbar. Bee couldn’t transform, I was too far away, and when we got close enough, I got knocked to the ground.” He stopped, remembering it all in vivid, painful detail. “Trent, the jock…I dunno, I pissed him off pretty badly, I guess. He’s a bully, and pretty stupid, but as far as I know he’s never really hurt anyone. Bee tried to transform, but I wouldn’t let him. Crowbar swung down, I tried to block with my arm, the arm turned to metal.”

“Interesting. It turned to metal, then back to flesh?” Ratchet patted Bumblebee’s hood and stepped back, the window good as new again. Relieved, Sam grinned up at his friend as he transformed.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back at Ratchet. “Not just metal, either. Metal armor. Like, plates. Like what you guys have, only human sized. I had to calm myself down enough to get it to turn back. I don’t even know how I did it, exactly. It just sort of…shifted.”

“Hmm. It is exceedingly difficult to determine what all of this means. If I had to guess, I would say this answers your question about whether or not you’ll be able to transform. You’ll just have to go through an extra step to get there. Human to Cybertronian, Cybertronian to Earth vehicle. A very small Earth vehicle. Of course, I can’t say for absolute certainty, but it looks to be heading in that direction. Again, I am guessing, but I believe this has to do with the Spark and your heart being so closely bonded. One cannot survive without the other, and so you must be able to transform back to human for your heart to still function regularly. If the capability did not exist, your human organs would serve no purpose, they would die, and then so would you. Your entire body has become a symbiotic relationship, it is really _most_ interesting.” He paused. “Did this…Trent character see what happened?”

“He was pretty wasted. He won’t remember it, and Mikaela I think scared him into silence even if he does. Like I said, he’s pretty stupid. I really doubt he’ll cause any problems.”

“Mikaela. She knows now? That is good.”

Sam shuffled his foot. “Well, I’m sure she put most of it together, but…I was pretty freaked. I didn’t really sit her down and explain any of it. I just wanted to get here, see what you thought, and make sure Bee was okay.”

Ratchet nodded. “Understandable, though I think at this point, she deserves an explanation. Are you still ‘freaked out’?”

“Yep. But I’ve spent the better part of the month being that way. I’m pretty good at handling it now.” He sighed. “What I mean is, it doesn’t feel like it’s choking me anymore. I’m freaked, and I’m scared, and I’m a lot of other things I can’t even put into words, but I’m not totally panicked, y’know? I mean, besides, what’s knowing you can turn into a robot next to the knowledge that you’re gonna live forever? That’s the one that still keeps me up at night.”

“You’re not sleeping?” Ratchet asked, concern in his voice.

“Not as well as he should be,” Bumblebee answered for him. “He gets rest, but it’s broken by nightmares. And the only time he gets even that amount of rest is when I take him somewhere quiet. When he stays at home, he does not sleep at all.”

“Gee, thanks Bee, I’m so glad I was able to answer for myself.” There was no heat in the words, however.

“You would not have answered honestly. I was merely saving you the trouble of having to find an adept half-truth. You should thank me.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged at Ratchet. “He’s right though, I don’t usually sleep well. I doubt there’s much you can do to help though, it’s just nightmares.”

“Are you sure?” Ratchet asked. “I have a theory, I would like to rule it out before I recommend human sleep aids.”

“I suppose I’m listening,” Sam said, a little grudgingly.

“As I’ve said before, your body is entirely comprised of symbiosis. The human parts rely on the Cybertronian parts, and vice versa. I believe it’s possible that this extends to things such as sleep as well. You are doing things by halves out of habit…you do not know any better. But while Cybertronians do not require sleep as you think of it, we must go into stasis to rest and recharge every few days. If my theory is correct, you have reached a point in your transformation where that is becoming increasingly necessary. But since you don’t know or understand how to go about it, the Cybertronian half of you that is not being allowed the rest it needs is essentially keeping the human half of you from resting as well. I believe that if this is the case, once we have taught you how to put that part of you into stasis, during that time the human side of you will be able to sleep as well. And if this is indeed the case, I also believe you will not require as much sleep as you did previously. I think it may run along the same time frame…every few days you will need to rest and recharge, but no more than that.”

“That was a very long speech for something that’s probably really just caused by nightmares,” Sam said, adding a silent ‘ _I hope_ ’ to the end of it.

“Well, it would be better to rule out the possibility now rather than have it cause problems later,” Ratchet replied. “I’ll just run a quick scan to be sure.”

Resigned, Sam nodded and waited. It only took a few minutes, and Ratchet’s sigh was enough to tell him he wasn’t going to like the news.

“It appears I was correct, Sam. Over seventy percent of your body has been infused with a Cybertronian structure, which is more than enough to require a recharge. And you’ve been needing one for days, which means we must teach you how tonight, or you could fall into a coma. The only thing that has been helping you is the small amount of sleep you have been getting. I don’t know how you’ve lasted this long without dropping, though.”

“Seventy percent?” Sam said weakly. He’d known it was spreading faster now, but he hadn’t realized quite how fast.

“The entire left side and center of your body. The only places it hasn’t reached yet are your right arm, right leg, and your head. However, those are also progressing very rapidly now, and I believe within six days, the process will be completed. We are going to have to work very quickly to prepare you for that.”

“It’s going to go into my brain, too, right?” Sam realized his voice sounded very fragile. He was terrified of what would happen to him when it all entered his brain.

“Yes, it will. Once that happens, your human vision will mingle with the Cybertronian optics. At that time, you will probably be very disoriented, perhaps even perceive yourself to be blind. It will take a few days for your brain to be able to process the new sensory information it is being given, because it will be mingling with all that a Cybertronian is able to do. The two halves will be working to bond completely, a difficult task for a body not ready for it. In the space of time while your body is working to accomplish that goal, I do not even know if you will be aware of anything. If we’re very lucky, you will fall into stasis and not awaken until the process is complete. Then when you’re awake, we can teach you to deal with all of it.”

“All that in six days…”

“I am sorry, Sam. I know this has been very difficult for you,” Ratchet said.

Bumblebee knelt down and held out his hand. Sam gratefully climbed on and just sat, his head in his hands, Bumblebee stroking one gigantic finger up and down his back in a comforting gesture. After a moment, Sam looked up again. “Guess we should get to work, huh? Figure, I’ve got six days to prep and learn this stasis thing. Then three days, hopefully not more, where I’ll basically be incapacitated. Then another five days where I have to learn everything I can to deal with it before school starts. Should be fun, right?” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Oh, and I still have to deal with explaining all of this to Optimus Prime and Mikaela. And whoever else decides they have a right to know everything in the world.”

“That about sums it up,” Ratchet said with a nod.

“So how are you going to go about teaching me this stasis thing when I can’t really access the brain part of being part Cybertronian or whatever yet?”

Ratchet was thoughtful. “What do you know about human meditation?”

88888

Sam had been forced to call his parents and tell them he was staying at Mikaela’s for the night, and then to call Mikaela and get her assurance that she would go along with the story if necessary. He was grateful when she didn’t pressure him for answers, only gave a quiet, “Of course, Sam. I hope you’re okay,” before hanging up the phone.

It took until nearly dawn for Ratchet to be able to teach him how to accomplish his goal of recharging, using regular meditation techniques to reach the Cybertronian part of himself and teach it to shut down. Bumblebee helped to translate things the medic said that made no sense to him, but otherwise stayed quiet, a pillar of support that Sam desperately needed. By sunrise, he was utterly exhausted, but had finally mastered the technique, and Ratchet recommended Bumblebee take him somewhere quiet so he could put it to the test and get some much needed regular sleep as well.

“Thank you for your help, Ratchet,” Sam said through a yawn. “I guess you can get a hold of Optimus, tell him I’ll speak with him…I dunno, this evening?”

“A normal recharge takes six to seven hours. Yours may be a bit longer because it’s been held off so long, but I believe you should be fine to speak with him this evening. I will inform him to be here at five o’clock.”

“All right. Would it be really selfish of me to ask you to pick up Mikaela? I’d like her here, I don’t want to explain this more times than necessary. And I think having her here would keep me calm.”

“I have no qualms with going to get Mikaela, I’m sure she’ll appreciate your wanting her here. Now go, get some rest, Sam. Take care of him, Bumblebee.”

“Of course,” the yellow Autobot replied. He quickly transformed back into a Camaro and Sam wearily climbed in the driver’s seat. With a last wave at Ratchet, the two sped off toward their spot.

88888

Sam awoke slowly, blinking his eyes against the brightness of a sun that was slowly heading toward the western horizon. He felt refreshed, something he hadn’t experienced in weeks. “Bee?”

“How do you feel, Sam? You were asleep longer than we had anticipated. It is nearly six o’clock. I already contacted Ratchet to request moving the meeting to seven. We were both growing concerned when you still showed no signs of waking by five.”

“I’m fine…great, actually. I feel terrific. Although I have feeling Ratchet didn’t anticipate that going into stasis would effect the time it would take the transformation.” Sam flexed his right hand. He knew already it was completely changed, but the usual soreness that accompanied the transformation was not present, undoubtedly an effect of getting the recharge his new body required. He thought he should be more concerned than he was, but without the usual exhaustion he had walked around with lately, the normal terror he felt when he thought about his rapid transformation simply didn’t exist. There was a fair amount of concern, but otherwise, he simply felt it was just a problem to be handled, like poor grades or a broken cell phone. It was a strange feeling, this newfound acceptance, but he welcomed it nonetheless.

“What do you mean? How do you know the time frame has changed?” Bumblebee asked, sounding worried.

“Can’t really explain how I know. But I can tell you that the whole right side of my body is changed, and it’s moved up toward my brain, but it hasn’t touched it yet. It will, soon.”

“Are you frightened?”

Sam considered. “Not like I was before. I think those meditation techniques Ratchet taught me caused me to be more in tune with my Cybertronian half, which is why I can tell all of these things. That and rest were two things I really, really needed. Now, I’m starting to lean toward accepting this whole crazy thing. It’s going to happen whether I want it to or not, right? Yeah, I’m nervous about what’ll happen. It sure as hell won’t be a trip to the theme park or anything. But I can deal.”

The engine rumbled a bit. “I am glad you’re all right. It…hurt me, to see you in so much pain.”

Sam rubbed his hand along the back seat he was lying on, no more words necessary between the two friends.

“C’mon, Sam finally said, crawling up into the front seat. “Let’s go talk to the others.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Bumblebee asked.

Sam smiled. “Yeah, I think I really am.”


	6. Chapter 6

The overlook seemed crowded to Sam, although there were not more people there than normal. Optimus stood tall, his arms folded over his chest as he watched Sam and Bumblebee drive up. Ironhide stood a few feet away from him, looking impatient. Ratchet had chosen, for the moment, to remain as a search-and-rescue vehicle, probably to avoid speaking with the others. The two humans were a little ways away, closer to the tree line, talking quietly, but when Mikaela heard the sound of the engine, she immediately came over to them.

“How are you?” she asked quietly as Sam stepped out of the car and allowed Bee to transform.

He gave her a smile and a quick hug. “Better. Thanks for covering for me to my parents and everything.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think your mom was just about bursting for joy when she called and I confirmed you were at my house.”

Sam laughed and glanced toward the Autobots with a small sigh. He could already hear raised voices from all four of them. “Well, guess I should get this over with.”

She squeezed his hand softly in support and followed him over to where the Autobots were. Will joined them quickly, obviously anxious to hear whatever it was Sam was about to say.

“Cut it out, you guys,” he yelled. Instantly, all of them quieted. “Seriously, is this what you’ve come down to? Fighting to know every damn piece of information that may or may not mean anything? I thought you all had faith in each other, but this is just stupid. And what’s worse? It’s about _me_ , which makes it _my_ business, damn you!”

“And yet you felt the need to disclose the information to Ratchet and Bumblebee?” Ironhide growled.

“So what?” Sam challenged right back. “I wanted an opinion from Ratchet, and he ended up being the only one who could help me. And I wouldn’t have even done that if Mikaela hadn’t forced me. Bumblebee is my best friend, of course I’m going to go to him whatever is going on with me. Don’t either of you ever keep secrets? Things you want to handle on your own? Because here on Earth, it’s pretty normal.”

Optimus sighed. “And yet you are here anyway, ready to tell us?”

“Yeah. On _my_ terms, not yours. And that includes what happens _after_ I tell you. For one thing, you don’t get to order me around. I’m not one of your soldiers, and I won’t always follow your orders. You can give me an opinion, what you think is best, but if I disagree, you’re going to have to deal with it. For another thing, you don’t ever get to corner me again. I’ve trusted you guys since you came here, and you’re all my friends, but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to keep things to myself, understand? I’m telling you everything now because I think the time is fast coming where it _will_ become dangerous. Not because you’ve been demanding to know for weeks.”

“Sam, we never meant to imply that you were under orders to disclose every bit of information,” Will said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you did. But I get it, because _you_ guys _are_ soldiers, first and foremost. I was comfortable talking to Ratchet, because he’s basically a doctor. He understood the whole confidentiality thing.”

“And my duty to protect Sam, as well as my regard for his friendship, will always come before any soldier training I have had,” Bumblebee said. Optimus did not look happy about that, but neither did he say anything.

Sam smiled up at Bumblebee, then looked back to the others. “Before I tell you anything, I have to set the record straight for a few of you. After the fight in Mission City, you all assumed Optimus had destroyed Megatron using the Allspark. You were right about _how_ it happened, just not about who actually did it.”

Ironhide crouched down, staring Sam in the eyes. “You expect us to believe that _you_ -”

“The boy is not lying, Ironide,” Optimus said. He sounded much older, all of a sudden, and Sam thought maybe he’d finally garnered a clue about where this was going. “Young Sam saved my life by not listening when I ordered him to push the Allspark into my chest. Instead, he used it to destroy Megatron.” He glanced at Ratchet. “You know he maintained contact with it during its destruction?”

Ratchet nodded. “Yes, Sam told me as much.”

“But that would have been _crazy!_ ” Will burst out. “I mean, who _knows_ what could have happened, wasn’t the Allspark, like, raw power?”

“It was,” Sam said with a nod. “And we _know_ what happened.” He sighed. He seemed to do that a lot lately. “You’re not going to like this, none of you. Later, Ratchet could probably explain some of the details, since he’s the medical expert, but since you’re all just _dying_ to know…

“When the Allspark was destroyed, it created one last spark, probably in some strange effort to save itself. There was only one being it was near who wasn’t dying, and that’s where the spark went. I guess I should just be grateful that it couldn’t actually bond with me, I imagine that would have been a lot worse, for everyone.”

“A…spark…” Will said, trying to grasp what Sam was saying. “There’s a spark inside you?”

“Yep. Bonded completely to my heart. Oh, it gets better, I promise.” Mikaela was staring at him in understanding. She really had put all the pieces together. He was grateful to have someone else who understood, and didn’t judge. “Since I’m obviously not really made to be able to keep a spark, it’s been altering my body, for almost two months now.” He glanced at Ratchet. “It’s almost complete, only my brain and facial structure haven’t been touched yet.”

“ _What?_ ” Ratchet hissed. “How? You should have had days to prepare…”

“Don’t worry about it Ratchet, you couldn’t have known. Going into stasis sped up the process, probably something that should have happened days ago. It’s not a big deal, just gives me more time to work with before school starts to get used to all this.” He turned to Optimus. “Long story short, I’m half human, half Cybertronian. That’s why I’ve been seeing Ratchet, that’s why both him and Bumblebee have been so secretive lately.”

Ironhide and Optimus stared at each other, obviously sharing some secret communication.

“When you say it’s been altering your body…” Will let his question trail off, not really wanting to ask but needing an answer all the same.

Sam shrugged. “You can take your pick of weird effects. Take almost anything the Autobots can do, and chances are I’ll have the same ability within the next couple of days, the way things are going. My whole bone structure is becoming metallic in nature, my body is using Spark energy. Small cuts don’t bleed anymore, they heal almost instantly.”

Mikaela’s eyes widened. “The day you…”

She didn’t need to elaborate. “Yeah. I had just found out.”

“Your strength? Your lifespan?” These questions came from Optimus, and weren’t unexpected.

“Both increased. Significantly.” Sam’s fist clenched before he had even realized it, and Mikaela understood the last piece of the puzzle. The reason they couldn’t be together. He saw the understanding light her eyes, and the final acceptance of the decision that a small part of him had hoped would never be there. Now there would be no going back.

“Well, obviously there will be no transforming ability,” Ironhide said.

Sam stared at him for a long moment. “That would really make you happy, wouldn’t it? I think this whole thing has you more freaked out than I was. Let me tell you, that’s saying something.” He held his arm out a bit, staring down at it. The look on his face was one of resignation, but there was sadness there as well. Acceptance had come, but nothing could make the knowledge that he was losing his whole life any easier.

He let his eyes fall closed, sought the calm inside himself as Ratchet had taught him. He had never intentionally done this before, of course, but he did not doubt that he could. Blue flashes danced behind his eyes as he traveled deeper within himself, and in a sudden burst of light, he carried the power up through himself, into his arm, and let it explode outward. He felt the change this time, felt his skin shift into hard metallic armor, felt his hand flex and change to a cold and unyielding fist, felt the currents of power that traveled up and down his arm, up as far as his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, he stared down not at the human arm that had been there moments ago, but at the robotic one, of dark metal and, as yet, of unknown power. When he looked back up at Ironhide, he was selfishly pleased to see the weapons specialist looking utterly stupefied.

Now that he had a chance to study it without being so terrified of it, Sam brought the hand up more and flexed his fingers, one at a time. Bending his elbow, he could make out the same whirring and clicking noises he’d always associated with his Autobot friends. He wasn’t aware of Mikaela stepping forward until she was reaching hesitantly out to touch his hand. Her eyes sought permission from his, and he held it out to her, only a little uncomfortable. He’d never been under such careful scrutiny before.

When she laid his robotic hand in hers, he was surprised to realize he could still feel her warmth. It was dulled, but still there. She tentatively traced a finger over the palm, glancing up at him as she did. “Can you feel that?” she asked.

He nodded. “It’s not like before, but I can feel it. It‘s like…vibrations, instead of texture. I can’t really explain it.”

Her hand moved further up, tracing around the plates of armor, feeling where the metal was jointed to allow for more movement. She very slowly pushed the sleeve of his t-shirt up onto his shoulder, and stared at where flesh and metal blended so perfectly into one another it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended. “Sam, this is…”

“If you say amazing, I might have to hit you,” Sam said softly, but he was smiling at her just a little. She carefully dropped his arm as though it was fragile and offered him a small smile back.

Optimus knelt down. “Sam, I know you are angry with me, and perhaps you have a right to be. I apologize for demanding answers from you the way I did.”

“Don’t apologize to me, I don’t feel bad for telling you no. Ratchet and Bumblebee, on the other hand, probably feel horrible guilty for defying their leader. You should be apologizing to them for putting them in that position.”

“It is not necessary.” Sam was amused when both Bee and Ratchet spoke at the exact same time, and not really all the surprised at the words.

“No, young Sam is right. I am sorry, my friends,” Optimus said, still kneeling as he looked up at them.

Bumblebee inclined his head, accepting the apology, but he looked distinctly uncomfortable. Ratchet waved the apology away. “You only did what you felt was necessary.”

“Even so,” Optimus said, standing. He turned back to Sam. “Sam, you said you felt it was time to tell us because you thought the situation would become dangerous soon. Can you elaborate?”

Sam was quiet for a moment, letting the power seep from his arm, watching it melt back to lightly tanned skin, before he finally looked back at the Autobot leader and spoke. “The Decepticons are still out there, at least two that we know of, and possibly more. Once this change enters my brain, I’m going to gain access to all the functions, or at least most, that you guys have. We think, anyway. When that happens, we’re afraid that I’ll unintentionally start transmitting Cybertronian signals. And when _that_ happens…”

“It will bring Starscream straight down on us, and probably others,” Ironide muttered. “When he finds out what has happened, and to whom…”

“I’m pretty positive he’s going to come back on a revenge quest anyway,” Will said. “Even if he didn’t know the details of Mission City, he would blame Sam. And he would also figure that destroying a human - an easy target - would be simple, and that it would be quite a blow to the Autobots. When he realizes what’s happened to Sam, he’ll want to take him out even more quickly because now Sam could be a threat to him. One more ally for the Autobots. Either way…”

“Either way, I’m fucked,” Sam said.

“And there would be no way to stop the signal?” Optimus asked Ratchet.

“We’ll have enough trouble dealing with everything else,” the medic replied. “It’s a waiting game until the Spark energy enters his brain, and from that point on…I don’t know what will happen.”

“Could it…” Mikaela swallowed. “Could it hurt him?”

“Thus far, his body has acclimated quite readily to the changes happening to it. I do not foresee that changing, but again, I simply cannot be sure.”

Sam sighed and glanced up at the sky, now dark except for the twinkling stars. He thought maybe there were more than normal, and thought that was very strange until he realized that all those extra dots and flashes were behind his eyes. He rubbed at them, but it only seemed to make it worse. When he looked back down, dizziness almost forced him to his knees.

“Sam? Sam, what’s wrong?”

Sam looked at Bumblebee, tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t work right, and instead of words, he only managed an inarticulate, strangled sound. Now instead of lights, black spots were dancing before his vision. He dropped to the ground, clutching at his head. He thought maybe he screamed, but couldn’t be sure. He was aware of the frantic movement around him, and of someone yelling out orders, but he couldn’t open his eyes to see what was going on, couldn’t hear much besides the ringing in his ears.

His last conscious thought was that it was Bumblebee who caught him as he fell, and that he was grateful.


	7. Chapter 7

“It’s been a week, Ratchet, why hasn’t he woken up yet?” Bumblebee growled.

“I don’t know, Bumblebee,” the medic replied, and he sounded tired. “I told you both from the beginning that I could not predict what would happen once the change entered his brain. I do not know why he is still in stasis, all scans show his readings as normal. Or, as normal as possible considering the circumstances. The bonding of the two halves is complete, and he should have exited stasis three days ago.”

“That’s not good enough!” the yellow ‘bot yelled.

“It’s going to have to be! There is nothing more I can do until he shows signs of waking!”

Sam wanted desperately to tell his two friends to stop arguing. He could hear them, and it was giving him a headache. Maybe because the yelling was so loud. Or, maybe not loud, but…close. He thought that was strange, upon further inspection. The yelling didn’t seem to be coming from an outside source, it seemed to be coming from inside him, all around him. It took him a few very long moments to process the fact that they were transmitting the argument, not actually speaking out loud, and another few moments to realize that he was really hearing the transmission and it wasn’t his imagination.

“You two have been at each other’s throats for days,” he suddenly heard another voice pop in. He recognized Ironhide’s growl. “Give it a rest. He’ll wake when he’s ready, and you two tearing each other to pieces won’t help anything.”

It was a very strange way to ‘hear’ things, Sam thought, but it definitely had its perks. Especially since he was pretty positive they didn’t know he could hear them yet. At least listening gave him something solid to focus on. Despite what they thought, he had been ‘awake’ to a degree for two days. But upon first being aware that he was awake, he couldn’t make sense of anything. Sounds were disjointed and muted, all feeling had been totally cut off, and he could not move no matter how hard he tried. At first he had been terrified, until he remembered Ratchet telling him that his human brain and the new Cybertronian side of him would take some time to get acclimated to each other. Until that happened, he would be pretty much useless. He wondered a little why Ratchet hadn’t been able to tell he was awake during that time.

The conversation between the two Autobots was the first thing he had been able to make any sense of since he had become aware again, and he was grateful. If he could make sense of transmissions between the bots, it had to mean that soon enough he would be up and moving again.

Behind his closed eyes, he began to see strange words and symbols racing across his vision, and he was startled to realize that he was speed reading what had to be the Cybertronian language. His body was running a diagnostic scan of itself if he was reading it correctly (which he was almost positive he was, however crazy _that_ was), probably something he had set off completely by accident.

 _Least it looks like I’m healthy_ , he thought as he watched the words fly by, giving him stats on everything from how well his organs were functioning, to how regular his breathing pattern was, to the _exact_ time it had been since he had last gone into stasis, and how long it would be until he should again. He thought it was pretty kick-ass that the readings were for his human side as well as the Cybertronian half. Hybrid, indeed.

 _Well_ , he thought, _I’m going to have to try opening my eyes sooner or later. Might as well make it sooner._ He was afraid of what he would see when he did, though. Behind closed eyelids, the changes he knew he’d gone through were relative. Sure, he could hear transmissions between the bots, but he could still pretend they were really speaking. And sure, he could run a diagnostic scan on himself and suddenly read a foreign language, but he could pretend that was his imagination. But when he opened his eyes, there would be no going back.

 _Here goes nothing…_ It was a struggle for a moment. His body, which had been unconscious for five days and unresponsive for another two, rebelled against any sort of movement. But he was determined, and a second later, his eyes fluttered open.

He blinked a few times, first against the brightness of the room around him, and then to try to adjust. He could _see_ , and that was a hell of a good start as far as he was concerned. But everything was…well. _Intense._ He realized he was seeing two different ways simultaneously. He could ‘see’ in the sense he’d always been able to. Simple – light and shadow, color, movement. But overlaying that was this new perception, where everything was tinted blue, and everything he looked at was given words, stats, and diagnostics that ran through his brain in milliseconds. He stared across the room at a wooden rocking chair, and instantly knew what material it was made out of, how old the material was, what the device itself was used for, and the threat level such an object presented. Along with a whole bunch of other mumbo-jumbo he decided not to try and sort through.

It was the rocking chair that clued him in to the fact that he wasn’t in his own room. In fact, he didn’t know where he was, because he knew Mikaela’s house pretty well, and this wasn’t it either. Which meant if he wanted to figure out _where_ he was, he was going to have to get someone’s attention. And wouldn’t that probably cause a stir.

Still, his friends had obviously been very worried. It wasn’t fair to keep them in the dark any longer.

He glanced around (his neck rebelled painfully against the movement), but didn’t see anyone else in the vicinity. While he was relatively sure he could speak, he was just as sure that his voice wouldn’t be loud enough to actually call for someone. Which left one option that he wasn’t even sure he was capable of yet. He’d have to try, though.

He closed his eyes (and wasn’t ashamed to admit he was grateful when that blue tinged, alien sight was replaced by darkness) and turned his mind inward. He let himself sink into a meditative state as Ratchet had taught him, and focused his thoughts on his best friend. _Bumblebee_ , he thought. He waited a moment, but all was silent. It hadn’t worked. He sank deeper inside himself, grasping at the energy he felt pulsing around his heart.

“ _Bumblebee!_ ”

He knew it worked when he heard startled exclamations from outside, but the effort had exhausted him and even if they had replied using transmissions, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do more. He drifted back up through consciousness, and kept his eyes closed while he waited for someone to come.

He didn’t have to wait long. He heard the door to whatever room he was in burst open, and quick footsteps moving to his bedside.

“Sam?”

Mikaela. It warmed him knowing she was there. He forced his eyes open and turned to her, a small smile on his face. “Hey ‘Kaela,” he said, his voice scratchy. She pulled a bottle of water from the pack she had by her side.

“Here, let’s get you sitting up,” she said, moving to help him. His muscles screamed in protest, but with her supporting him, he was able to sit up enough to take a few small sips of water without choking. “That better?” she asked.

“Much. Thanks.”

She laid him back gently against the pillows and just stared at him. “Jesus, Sam,” she said after a long moment. “You had all of us pretty freaked, you know.”

“I’m sorry.” And he really was. The last thing he wanted was all the people he cared about worrying about him.

“How are you feeling? And don’t scrimp on details…I’m to report straight back to Bumblebee and Ratchet, and they’ll want details since Sarah will kill them if they try to step foot in the house.”

“Sarah…this is Will’s place?”

Mikaela nodded. “It was the safest place we could think of to bring you. The air force keeps an eye on the place, even though Will isn’t part of it anymore, so if any Decepticons showed up, we’ll at least have some backup.”

“Oh…Oh! The transmission! Did I -”

“You didn’t start transmitting until a few minutes ago, Ratchet thinks because you forced a direct transmission to Bumblebee. Things are quiet right now, but they’re watchful, and Will just called in the government to keep an extra eye on things as well. All he told them was that he had reason to believe Decepticons would be scouting the area, he didn’t tell them why.”

Sam wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved that they had things under control so far, or ashamed for unintentionally causing problems all by himself.

“So? How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” he replied, thinking about it for a second. “Probably from lying here for so long, more than the changes. And a little strange…my sight is…weird, but I can still _see_ , which I’m taking as a good thing. I’m healthy…I accidentally ran a diagnostic on myself, so you can tell Ratchet that I guess, though it probably won’t be good enough for him. You can also tell him that I’ve been awake for two days…I just couldn’t do _anything_.”

“He’ll be happy to hear all of that. So will Bee. They were both afraid you’d be awake, but incoherent. At the very least, still unable to cope with certain changes. But you seem all right.” She paused for a moment. “Sam…you may not like this, but…your eyes…”

He glanced up at her quickly. “What about them?” he asked, panicked. “I can see fine…weird, but fine…I can even still see like normal, sort of.”

“Well…look, no one knew what to expect with all of this, right? Don’t freak out. I don’t think even Ratchet expected this, but…well, just don’t freak.”

“Yeah, because you’re doing such a good job of helping me _not_ freak out,” he growled. “What is it, ‘Kaela?”

She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small mirror, the same one he’d seen her use countless times in the past to fix make-up, straighten hair, check for food in her teeth…All the usual “girl” issues. She flipped it open and handed it to him, and suddenly he was terrified of that tiny reflective piece of glass.

With a shaking hand, he raised it to eye level…and stared. His right eye was completely normal. Chocolate brown iris, deep black pupil, a little bloodshot from being unused for so long, but normal. The left eye, though, glowed blue. The eye itself…the shape of it, the texture, even the moisture he could see…was as it had always been. But it was totally blue, glowing from spark energy. “Damn,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. He handed the mirror back to Mikaela and stared up at the ceiling.

“It makes sense,” he said after a moment. “Sort of, I guess. I mean, it couldn’t be as simple as flipping a switch to go back and forth between totally different optic structures, right? So it makes sense that this would be my body’s way of dealing with the need for both human and Cybertronian sight…just give me both simultaneously. I bet if I were to transform, it would be the same, they’d just become metallic or…Cybertronian…rather than…flesh, or whatever human eyes are. Or something.”

“You’re probably right,” Mikaela agreed, nodding slowly. “Are you okay?”

He took a breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah…yeah, I mean, if that’s the worst of it, it isn’t so bad. Obviously I can’t go to school with it…maybe I can get a patch. That’d be cool, right? I mean, it’s not like my skin turned irreversibly to metal or something. Just one eye I can’t control what it looks like. It could have been way worse.”

“That’s true.” Mikaela grinned. “And a patch would look pretty dashing. Still…you’re going to have to tell your parents now. Tell them _something_ , at least. Walking around with a new patch will fool the people who don’t live with you, but they’ll have questions. Especially Judy.”

“Ah. Damn.”

Mikaela stayed for another half an hour talking with Sam before she finally decided he should be resting, and she should be reporting back to the Autobots. On her way out she grasped his hand for a moment and ran a hand through his hair. “Get some rest, I’ll see you when you wake up.”

And for an instant, it was like old times, when he didn’t have to worry about protecting her, when he could smile at her in that special way and she could lean down and kiss him and everything in the world would be right and perfect.

But she didn’t lean down, and everything was not nearly right or perfect, and the moment was lost. Sam promised himself it would not come again. He couldn’t let it.

He took Mikaela’s advice and allowed himself to drift off for a bit, feeling that he needed the extra rest as he still needed to adjust to everything. When he next woke, the room was dark except for the green glow of the alarm clock he hadn’t noticed before, sitting perched on a small table across the room. It was dark, at least, to his human vision. His newly acquired alien vision was just as perfect and strange as it had been in the brightness of the day. It startled him a bit, but he thought he might be getting used to it.

“Sam?” The voice was quiet, hesitant, and warmed Sam instantly.

“Bee,” he said, looking over to the human projection of his best friend, who was seated quietly in the rocking chair, now placed carefully next to the bed. “How long have you been here?”

“A little over an hour,” was the quiet reply. “It was the only way Sarah Lennox would let me anywhere near the house.”

“An hour? But how?” Sam asked, surprised. “The last time…”

Bee smiled. “I have not been idling my time away while you’ve slept Sam. I’ve been practicing with Optimus and Ratchet. My control is considerably better than it was.”

“You…did that for me?”

“Of course I did,” Bee replied, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “How are you feeling? Mikaela said you were sore, but coping better than we had thought you would be so quickly.”

“I’m okay. Not even sore any more, as much as I was.” To prove this to himself as much as to Bee, he stretched, slowly working kinks out of his arms and legs, and was surprised to realize he really wasn’t that sore anymore at all. His body was acclimating ridiculously quickly. “Only thing still really weird is the eyesight thing. Haven’t really thought about much else that I’m sure I can do now.”

“Yes, the ‘eyesight thing’. It is a bit disconcerting. Are you beginning to grow accustomed to it?”

Sam snorted. “‘Disconcerting’, he says. Understatement of the century, Bee. But yeah…starting to get used to it. Mostly. Mikaela and I were talking about what I could possibly tell my parents. That’s got me more worried right now than anything.”

“Whatever you decide to tell them, I will be there with you. The Autobots will all support you, and help to explain your situation in any way possible. Mikaela also mentioned something about a patch you could wear during the rest of the time?”

“She thinks it would look _dashing_ ,” Sam laughed. “And it could be cool making up some story about why I have to wear it. Some heroic tale about losing an eye while saving some gorgeous…” He trailed off at the look Bee was giving him. “All right, all right…well, something anyway. And really, a patch is the only thing I really _can_ do to hide it from everyone.”

“Hmm, that’s probably true. I could attempt to teach you, or have Optimus teach you, to project a hologram over the area of your normal eye, but that would take a focus that _I_ barely possess, to both hold it for a significant period of time, and keep it cemented to one area.”

“I’ll stick with the patch,” Sam said. “I’ve got enough to learn without adding a new trick to the pile in the course of a week.” He glanced up and noticed Bee’s hologram waver, just a bit. “You should go, you must be exhausted.”

“I am still learning,” Bee admitted. “But I wanted to be here when you awoke.”

Sam smiled. “You’re the best friend a guy could ask for, Bee. Thanks. Now go get a nice recharge, before you blink out of existence like last time.”

Bumblebee nodded and stood. Before he left, he reached over and grasped one of Sam’s hands, so much like Mikaela had earlier that it startled him for a moment. “Everything will be all right, Sam. You will get through this. All of it. And I will help you in any way I can.”

Caught up in emotions he could hardly name, Sam could only nod and squeeze his hand tighter. Bee shimmered again, and Sam released him to go get the rest he required. As the human projection stepped out of the room, Sam smiled with the knowledge that maybe, things really would be okay.

Now he just had to face one of his worst nightmares.

His mom and dad.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam knew he had a week before school was due to start. He also knew he’d need at least a couple of days to talk to his parents and get them acclimated to the idea that he was no longer entirely human. (To be fair, he realized two days wouldn’t nearly cut it, but he had to work with what he was given.) Plus one day traveling time to get from the Lennox’s back to his own home in Tranquility. Which left him four days with which to learn enough to be able to function well enough to be left on his own.

Optimus was determined to start immediately. The first order of business was to teach him how to transmit messages quickly and correctly, and Sam picked it up in record time. Within an hour he was able to direct transmissions to whichever of the bots he wanted to, or all of them if it was necessary. He gave himself a laugh comparing it to telepathy, but then thought, it sort of was a mechanical psychic link. Sort of. Which made him think it was way cooler than he had originally thought.

Right after learning transmissions, Ratchet took over to teach him the opposite – how to block the natural Cybertronian signals he was subconsciously transmitting. This was the more important of the two, all things considered, but he wouldn’t have been able to grasp the knowledge without first knowing the basics. While no one had been sure in the beginning if this was something he would even be _able_ to learn, they were all relieved when he picked it up quickly and was able ton put it to use.

The group still hadn’t heard anything from the government about Decepticons in the area, and certainly nothing had come through on the ‘bots frequencies, but they were still edgy. If Starscream wasn’t in the area, then where was he? And why was he biding his time? Mikaela tentatively suggested he might be far enough in space that he wouldn’t pick up the transmission, but no one was willing to bet their lives on the hope.

So Sam learned.

He also learned how to instantaneously access the internet in his mind, and all of the information it contained. His friends tested him constantly, gave him harder and trickier things to do. To test himself, he taught himself the entire Spanish language. In ten minutes.

“Man,” he told Mikaela on the third day. “School is gonna be a freaking _joke_.”

She promptly smacked him. But she giggled as well, which told him he was still safe to use his newfound abilities during tests.

They avoided anything to do with his possible transforming ability. He was still getting used to his new self, and the thought of completely changing into something foreign scared him more than he liked admitting to. Bumblebee seemed to recognize this reluctance in him, and had told Optimus quite clearly that it was not necessary at this point in time, and they would be better off focusing on more important things. Optimus didn’t seem happy, but neither did he argue with the protective yellow ‘bot.

Sam learned with relative ease how to focus his new optical structure, and once he became more practiced at it, he hardly noticed it anymore. The fact that he still had his human sight helped, and he was grateful for that small blessing.

On the last day that they would be at Will’s, Ironhide pulled him aside.

“Sam, we must work on one of the more important aspects of transforming. Bumblebee is too protective of you, and will not approve of me pushing this, but as a weapons specialist, I feel it is my duty to teach you the finer points of your own weapons.”

“Weapons?” Sam said blankly.

With a long-suffering sigh, Ironhide shook his head. “If your arm can transform, boy, you’ll be able to transform it into a weapon of _some_ type. Surely it hasn’t escaped your notice that _all_ of us come equipped with weapons. Mine just happen to be better than most.” The last was said with a definite sense of pride, and it made Sam grin.

“Suppose that’s true,” he said, resigned. “Never bothered to really think about it, but…you’re right. That will be important, won’t it?”

“If Starscream and his Decepticons come, nothing could be _more_ important,” Ironhide growled. “If I had my way, I’d be forcing a complete transformation out of you just to get you over the ridiculous fear you have of it. But that dratted yellow Autobot will shut me down if I so much as breathe wrong in your direction, so this will have to do.” He sniffed, and Sam was struck again by the Autobots and their picking up human expressions and habits. “At least you have enough sense to know that _this_ is necessary.”

And so he learned how to use weapons. They started with an hour of practicing him aim using an array of guns Will kept stocked from his time in the military. With his new vision enhancements, it took far less time than it would have in any normal circumstances.

After the second hour had passed, he could no longer put it off. He set the gun they had been practicing with down and looked up at Ironhide, who nodded, his normal scowl ( ** _could_** Autobots scowl? Sam wondered) firmly in place. “Well, come on, let’s see it then. I can’t help you with your arms looking so flimsy like that. Start with one. We can work our way up at a later date when you’re not so terrified of yourself.”

Sam bristled, but had to acknowledge the truth of the statement. He _was_ terrified of that part of him, of losing, for however long, everything that made him human. But one arm he could do… _had_ done, in point of fact…and that, at least, was something.

He closed his eyes, focused his mind inward, and brought the power up through his arm the way he had done using Ratchet’s meditation techniques. As before, he felt him arm _shift_ , and when he opened his eyes again, that same dark metal glared up at him. As before, he flexed his fingers, getting used to the different feel of his own arm, before finally looking back up at Ironhide to indicate he was ready.

Ironhide nodded in satisfaction and sat on the ground to bring himself more at eye level with Sam. “I don’t know how it is you change your arm from flesh to cybertronian, but I imagine it’s much the same as what I’ll teach you. Unlike the vehicles we can transform into, our weapons don’t require anything for us to copy from. They’re ingrained in us from the time we’re created. So somewhere in that thick subconscious of yours, you’ve got some type of weapon buried already. We just need for you to find it.”

“Right,” Sam said. “So, uh…how do I do that?”

The weapons specialist smirked and set about showing him.

They worked together for another three hours before Bumblebee found them. By then, Sam was exhausted, but happy. His training had gone well, even Ironhide couldn’t argue the fact. He had a nice gun of his very own, one that could do significantly more damage than the ones they had borrowed from Will’s storage area. And he’d learned a lot about controlling his transforming ability, even if he wasn’t ready to try it completely just yet. It was enough for now.

“Sam? Mikaela sent me to find you.” Bee said, coming up beside him and Ironhide. “How is your training progressing?” It was said with a glare at the larger Autobot who Sam had spent the last few hours with, and he realized that this part of his training had been against what Bumblebee thought he was ready for. He was grateful his friend was keeping an eye out for him.

“It went well, but I’m pretty tired,” he said. He gave a small smile to Ironhide. “Thanks,” he said simply.

“You did well,” the ‘bot replied gruffly. “We’ll work more when you’re ready.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And then Ironhide was gone, leaving Sam with his best friend.

“How was it really?” Bumblebee asked, concern in his voice.

“It was good, Bee, really. And I did need it, Ironhide was right about that. I can’t keep hiding forever from everything that freaks me out. At least I think I’m finally okay to go home tomorrow. My control is better, I’m not leading scumbag Decepticons to us anymore, and I have a kick-ass gun at my disposal. What more could a kid want?” He sat down tiredly on the ground, looking forlornly at how far away the ranch-style house was. They’d been practicing at a significant distance, to keep the gunshots away from the sensitive ears of the Lennox baby.

“You’re hardly a child any longer, Sam,” Bee commented. “You gave that up months ago, in Mission City. I wish you had not been forced to do so.”

Sam shrugged, watching his arm melt back to flesh. He was going to have to start getting faster at that particular change if he wanted it to be at all useful. It still took much more concentration than he liked. “We all did what we had to that day. I don’t regret it.”

Bee stared at him for a long moment. “Is that truly how you feel, or how you believe you should feel to keep everyone else happy?”

“I’ve accepted what’s happened. I might not be happy as a clam about it, but I’ve accepted it. There’s nothing I can do about it, so I’m gonna make the most out of it. I wouldn’t change Mission City. I saved my friends, we all saved the planet, and life will go on like it should because of that. If I had to make some sacrifices to do it, then that’s just the way it is.”

“I’m proud of you, Sam. I’ve known many Autobots much older and more experienced than you who would have a hard time coming to those same conclusions, no matter how true they may be.”

Sam couldn’t think of anything to say to that high praise from someone he so deeply respected, but Bee saved him the trouble of saying anything by transforming into a sleek yellow Camaro, and indicating for Sam to climb in. The two drove back up to the Lennox house where the rest of their friends waited for them in content silence.

88888

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam said the next morning as they were packing to leave. Sam would be riding in Bumblebee, and Mikaela had decided to go with Ratchet to give him some peace and quiet to go over what he was going to say to his parents. Will would be a few hours behind them with Ironhide, but he wanted to check in with his contacts in the government before leaving. Optimus had some other secret mission he was going on, and would not be back in Tranquility for a few days. He had left the previous night. “You told my parents that we were going on a _road trip_ …two weeks before school was due to start…and they just accepted it with no complaints?”

“Well…no,” Mikaela said. “Actually, _you_ asked them…” At his blank look, she finally relented. “We were in a rush. You were unconscious, no one knew what to expect…all we knew was to get you somewhere safe, so we swung by your house first and Ratchet used a hologram of you. So _you_ went into your house, asked for permission to go on a spur-of-the-moment road trip with me, begged for a few minutes, and were finally allowed to pack a few basic necessities and leave. And honestly, why did you pick _just now_ to ask about this?”  
=  
“Well, I’ve been a little preoccupied! It didn’t occur to me before…” Sam grumbled. “But I’m glad you thought of it. I don’t even want to think of Mom’s face if I had just disappeared for a week and a half.”

Mikaela giggled. “Poor Judy. She probably looked like that the whole time anyway. She’s a little…over-the-top.”

“A little?”

She laughed. “Come on, you ready to go face the music?”

“Never.” But he sighed and swung his last bag into the backseat of the Camaro. With a final parting hug to Sarah for the hospitality, and a kiss to little Annabelle’s cheek, he climbed into Bumblebee and then they were on their way back home. With every mile, Sam’s anxiety increased. This was not going to go over well. At all.

88888

It was dusk when they finally pulled up in front of his house, Ratchet and Mikaela pulling in close behind them. Mikaela would be his emotional support and backup, since she was known to and loved by the Witwicky family. Bee would stay outside until needed, and only use his hologram if Sam needed him.

“You will be fine, Sam,” Bee said. “You are overreacting.”

“Hmph. You’ve never had a conversation with my mother. She’ll freak. They’ll both freak that I’m hanging out with a bunch of alien robots. That _I’m_ half alien robot.”

“You are concerned they will not accept you?”

“Why should they?” Sam asked quietly. It was his biggest fear, the one he hadn’t dared speak of before. What if his parents simply couldn’t accept him in this new life he had? What if they wouldn’t?

“They love you,” Bee said. “You are their son, and no matter how much you have changed, that fact has not. You may have a slightly different body, but you are still the same Samuel James Witwicky that they have always known and loved. They will see that. You should have faith in a human parent’s incredible ability to love…that is something an Autobot could never understand, as we have never known it, but we have all seen and been amazed by it since coming to this planet.”

Calmed slightly, Sam ran a thankful hand over the steering wheel. “Thanks, Bee.” With a deep breath, he exited the car and shot a smile at Mikaela as she fell into step beside him.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she said, running a soft hand down his arm in a comforting gesture.

“Yeah…” he agreed non-commitally. He reached into a pocket and dug out a pair of dark sunglasses, looking at them for a long moment before slipping them on. He had tried them on in the car, and while they didn’t totally block the glow from the cybertronian eye, it wasn’t noticeable except upon close inspection. A half second later, the door opened and Judy Witwicky herself stepped out.

“Sam!” she cried, rushing forward. “You’re back! How was your trip? What did you do? How are your other friends? And why didn’t you call, that was so inconsiderate, we were worried!”

“Let the games begin,” he murmured.

88888

They had all been inside for ten minutes before he finally worked up the nerve to say, “Mom? Dad? Can we sit down and talk for a few minutes?”

“Of course, honey!” Judy exclaimed, and proceeded to usher all of them into the living room. When they were all seated comfortably, she said, “So what’s on your mind? And take off those ridiculous sunglasses, it’s nighttime! Does this have something to do with…well, you two?” She shot a knowing glance at Mikaela that had the girl turning a deep red, but Sam didn’t even notice.

“No, Mom, nothing to do with ‘Kaela.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes, a deep sigh escaping him. He was barely aware of Mikaela’s hand on his shoulder as he reached up and removed the sunglasses. When he lifted his face, his eyes were open again, and he was able to fully take in the shock that crossed his mother’s face, morphing quickly into an abstract sort of horror. At a glance to his father, he saw only confusion. Confusion, at least, he could handle, so he kept his gaze on him.

“Guys, I, uh…sort of have a story to tell you.”

It took the better part of two hours, with both him and Mikaela talking, to get the necessary parts of the story out. He glossed over the war between the Decepticons and the Autobots, only mentioning that there were two different ‘races’ of Cybertronians. He left out entirely anything pertaining to Megatron and Starscream. He explained to his father about the legacy his great-great grandfather really had left him by discovering a Decepticon in the arctic all those years ago, and how Bumblebee had twisted events in his favor so he would come to be watching over Sam. He told them about the other ‘bots, and what their roles were. And finally, he had to tell them about what had happened to him.

He didn’t say exactly how it had happened, only that he had been messing about with an object entrusted to the Autobots, and in a freak accident, it had altered him in a way none of them could have predicted. He stressed that it was entirely his fault, that his friends had done everything in their power to help him. He glanced between his parents as he spoke, and was unsurprised to see that his mom was having trouble grasping at what he was talking about. His father wore a look of even deeper confusion.

“Look,” he finally said, “I know you guys don’t really understand any of this. I barely do myself. But the fact is, I’m not…not fully human anymore. I know it’s a crazy concept to try and get. I know I haven’t explained things very well. But…what you need to understand…there’s nothing I can do to change it. This is who… _what_ I am now. You guys…had a right to know. And, c’mon, it’s not like I can really hide it. But…I’ll understand if… Well, if you don’t want me to stay here anymore, just tell me and I’ll get some stuff together and leave.”

Both of his parents were silent for long moments. A tear rolled down his mother’s cheek, and she stifled a small sob, finally understanding that this situation was much more serious than she had wanted to believe.

“Look, Sam…” his father began hesitantly. “You’ve said a lot of crazy things tonight, but none of it really…makes any sense. Your eye is…strange, but otherwise, where’s the proof to back any of this up? How can you expect us to just…accept all of this?”

With another resigned sigh, Sam stood. Mikaela made to stand beside him, but he gestured for her to remain seated. He held him arm out and watched it shift, metal plates forming where warm flesh had been. His mother shrieked, and his fist clenched. When the change was complete, he stared at his father. “So I guess this would constitute proof?” he asked softly. “It’s not just my arm. My whole body can do this now, if I want it to. This metal here? This is what makes up my whole bone structure. If I cut myself now, I won’t bleed…energy will just heal it.”

“Oh my God…oh my _God_ , Sam!” Judy’s voice was weak, a trembling hand fluttering up to her mouth.

He allowed his arm to shift back to flesh, and in the back of his mind, was proud that he was accomplishing it more quickly than he used to. He went and knelt by his mother. “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to totally freak you out. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t reply, just shook her head over and over again, not willing to believe what she had just seen.

Ron was quiet for a very long moment, not looking at his son, only staring intensely at the carpet underneath his feet. When he finally lifted his eyes, it was to look at Mikaela. “What do _you_ think of all of this?” he asked her.

Mikaela looked back and forth between the members of this small family. Sam, who hadn’t moved from Judy’s side, but hadn’t made a move to touch her either, Sam who was looking more dejected by the second. Judy, who looked like her entire world had just crumbled beneath her. Ron, who looked like he was honestly trying to work out what all of this meant, but was having a hell of a time. She sighed. “I’ll be perfectly honest, Mr. Witwicky. When I first found out about all of this, I was a little scared by it. But it was nothing to what Sam was going through. His whole life was just snatched from him. And the Autobots…I’ve known them a long time now, and a more honorable race of beings would be hard to find. They’ve done everything in their power to help Sam. And Sam himself…he’s been through the ringer as far as emotions are concerned. But he’s held himself up, he’s forced himself to move on with his life, and I’m damn proud to be able to count him as a friend. His biggest concern in all of this has been whether or not you’d both still be able to accept him.”

Sam’s head was bowed again, and he was fighting a losing battle against the tears that wanted to spill. Leave it to Mikaela to sum it up so concisely, and with so much brutal honesty. He felt a light touch on his shoulder and looked up into the eyes of his mom.

“Sam, honey…” she said. “We may not understand this, and we may be absolutely terrified of what it means…” She took a breath. “But you’re still our son, no matter what. We still love you.”

He sniffed and pulled himself up onto the couch before wrapping his arms around her. A moment later he felt the weight of his dad’s hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll get through this, son,” he said, and Sam could only nod.

The family stayed that way for a long time, and Mikaela quietly crept out of the house to go and sit with Bumblebee.


	9. Chapter 9

In the end, it was Sam’s father that went to a local optometrist and secured an eye patch for his son.

Sam and Mikaela had deliberated back and forth for a while about whether or not a patch was a good idea. Mikaela thought sunglasses would work better, as well as be a bit more inconspicuous, but as Sam pointed out, there was a greater risk of them being knocked off. And, as proven, even the darkest, most tinted sunglasses didn’t totally block the glow of the Cybertronian eye. While it could be attributed to a glare in some instances, if someone looked to closely, it would be noticeable. A contact was out for the same reason, and for another – when Sam did finally attempt a full transformation, any type of contact would be destroyed.

“Look, ‘Kaela, the truth of the matter is, an eye patch is the only thing that will work, and it can be explained away to anyone who asks as a medical condition,” Sam had said. “It just happens to work in my favor that I like the idea of looking like a dashing pirate.” He grinned and ducked his friend’s would-be smack.

How Ron managed to secure the patch for his son was something he didn’t discuss. He simply came into Sam’s room the night before school was due to start and handed Sam an unremarkable brown paper bag. Inside was a top-of-the-line, black medical eye patch, specifically designed to not let light in or out.

As his dad left the room, Sam reflected that it had been a very quiet two days. Ever since that first night, both of his parents had seemed determined not to think about the issue at hand. Maybe they just realized there was nothing they could do about it, but it had bugged him a little that they had both refused to discuss it beyond that point. Which was probably why the patch in his hand shocked him – he had expected to have to find a way to get one himself, or at least with the help of Mikaela. He hadn’t even realized his father was aware that he needed one.

He took the patch out of its little protective plastic bag and looked at it. The material was soft, and looked like it would be comfortable. He would have dealt with anything that protected his secret, but he was glad his dad had apparently made the extra effort. It was secured by some type of elastic band, which was good…it meant he wouldn’t have to waste extra effort trying to tie the damn thing.

He went to stand in front of the little mirror he kept propped in his room and put the patch on. _Well that’s gonna take some getting used to_ , he thought. But it didn’t look bad, either. Maybe not _dashing_ , but not ridiculous either.

School was sure going to be interesting tomorrow.

88888

He had only gotten about five hours of sleep, but that coupled with the fact that he had also gone into stasis helped Sam open his eyes the next morning feeling wide awake and nervous. The time and temperature flashed in his field of vision, but he didn’t need an internal computer to tell him that he was already running late, and if it was this sweltering in his room, outside would be unbearable. Wasn’t it supposed to be almost fall?

An energy gauge also flashed before his Cybertronian eye, telling him that he was fully rested after a full night of sleep and stasis, and that data was quickly followed by stats on his other normal health as well.

He shook his head, still not used to that, and swung his legs out of bed to focus on getting ready.

Before he left the house, he was stopped by his mother, who was sitting at the kitchen table with an untouched cup of coffee in front of her. “Sam?” she asked, as he was reaching for the doorknob.

“Yeah Mom, what’s up?” He turned away from the door and shoved his hands in his pockets, making a concentrated effort to sound as normal as possible, like it was just any other day of school.

“Well…just…have a good day, Sam,” she said. “And try not to listen to anyone who might make fun of you.” She indicated the new eye patch with a nod before grinning, just a little. “It does make you look rather handsome, you know.”

“Oh geez, Mom,” he said with an eye roll, but he was smiling. “Thanks. And I’ll try. On both counts.” He turned to the door again.

“Sam?”

And turned back. “Yeah, Mom?”

“Your father and I talked about it a little. We’d both like to meet some of your…Autobot friends. When things settle down. If you think it’s a good idea. I’ll even promise not to have a drink first.”

Touched, Sam nodded. “I’d like you to meet them…especially Bumblebee. Although…you already have, sort of…” He trailed off, thinking of the day Bumblebee had come into his room to make sure he wasn’t hurting himself. That day seemed a distant memory, and he was grateful. “Anyway, yeah…when things aren’t so crazy with going back to school…that’s a good idea. Thanks…”

Judy smiled. “Now, shoo, or you’ll be late! You should never be late on your first day back, you know. And try to be home at a reasonable time for once!”

Sam grinned on the entire drive to school, and Bumblebee stayed quiet, letting his human enjoy some genuine happiness without interruption.

They parked at the edge of the school parking lot, the farthest spot from the building, and Sam grabbed up his backpack and got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Bee,” he said quietly, running a hand over the hood of the Camaro.

 **Good luck, Sam** , was the reply in his head, and his smile widened before he finally turned and made his way warily up toward the school.

Mikaela met him halfway and casually linked her arm with his, a gesture of support, and a statement to anyone who might try and start something with him. “How you doing?” she asked as they walked.

He shrugged. “Pretty good actually. My parents want to meet with the Autobots, which is a little crazy. Picture my mom standing there chatting with a thirty-foot robot from outer space. Popcorn moments galore. I’m hoping you’ll come with whenever it happens.”

Mikaela snickered. “I wouldn’t dare miss it.”

They were nearing the typical mass of teenagers surrounding the main doors leading inside, and Sam was starting to notice a lot of them pointing at him and whispering to each other. “Well, this should be fun,” he said with a sigh.

88888

When Sam realized he was going to be made to suffer through another year of Mr. Hosney’s teaching style for senior history, he groaned. When he walked into the room and realized the class list was almost the same as last year’s, he very nearly walked right back out, and would have if Mikaela hadn’t grabbed his arm and dragged him to a seat in the back of the classroom.

“Mr. Witwicky!” the teacher said. “A pleasure for you to join us…late, but that’s not unexpected. Can I ask what you’re doing wearing that…charming eye patch? No doubt trying to make a fashion statement so you can sell them and make a bundle?”

“No, sir,” Sam replied. “It’s for a medical condition. My eye can’t be subjected to any type of light for an indefinite amount of time. You’re free to call my parents and verify, but chances are I’ll have to wear it for the rest of the year.”

A few people in the class snickered, but Sam was quick to notice that Trent stayed silent, and refused to look anywhere in the vicinity of Sam and Mikaela. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he thought Mikaela might have to talk to the jock and see what, if anything, he remembered.

Mr. Hosney tapped a finger on his stupid “quiet” sign, and shot another glance at Sam, as if the snickers and whispers were entirely his fault. “Rest assured, Mr. Witwicky, I will be verifying your information. For now, class, reach under your seats and pull out the textbook resting there. This will be your bible for the next several months, and I recommend you treat it as you would a holy text. That means no writing in it, throwing it, driving over it, bending the pages, or losing it. Turn to page…”

The rest of the morning was much the same as that first class, with varying degrees of disbelief from teachers, and varying volumes of laughter from students. Sam had never been even close to popular, and while Trent could probably come to school wearing the same eye patch, and the next day everyone else would be as well, Sam was not surprised to find himself being the source of much amusement. He tried not to let it bother him though, knowing how important it was that his secret stay hidden.

At lunch, which he had separately from Mikaela on this particular day, he sat by himself at a small table near the back of the cafeteria and nibbled on a sandwich. He had a magazine open next to him, but couldn’t really focus on it enough to be reading all about the hottest new game systems. He had a headache (which answered the question about whether or not he could still _get_ headaches), and was more than ready for the day to be over already. He still had two classes to get through, and a free period in between.

He was just contemplating going outside and sitting in his car for a few minutes of much-needed silence when a shadow fell over him and he looked up into the angry eyes of Trent.

“Witwicky,” the jock said, crossing his arms.

“Congratulations, you _finally_ know my name, and it only took you twelve years to figure it out. Can I help you?”

“First of all, you should know that I haven’t forgotten _any_ of our last…encounter. I’m going to tear you apart one of these days, Witwicky. And whatever kind of… _freakinshness_ you’re a part of isn’t gonna save you next time.”

“You were drunk, Trent. You don’t know _what_ you saw,” Sam said quietly. He tried to sound calm, unconcerned even, but inside he was shaking. If this jackass said anything, and it got back to the wrong person…

“Oh, I know, _trust_ me I know. I had the whole last few weeks to think about it…remember it…but don’t worry. That’s the other thing I wanted to tell you. I won’t say anything about it to anyone. Yet. You’re _mine_ , and I wanted you to know that. When I beat the crap out of you, I want you to know _exactly_ why I’m doing it. And no one else is going to have an excuse to take that away from me.”

“Go to hell,” Sam muttered, grabbing up his bag and standing. Before he could make it far, Trent grabbed his arm and spun him back.

“Don’t you forget, Witwicky. One day, you’re gonna get yours.”

This wasn’t Trent’s usual bully-speak that Sam had grown up knowing and hating. This was serious. Trent was on a revenge-quest for making him look like an idiot that night. He was the only one who had seen Sam’s arm transform, and his friends probably thought he was a wimp for letting him go. But at least he knew he’d keep quiet for now. He’d have to work with Mikaela to figure out a way to make that silence more permanent.

He wrenched his arm from Trent’s grasp and walked away, leaving the scowling jock staring after him.

He was halfway through the parking lot when the second unwelcome encounter came. Upon reflection, Sam realized that seeing the person who had been his best friend nearly his whole life shouldn’t be unwelcome, but he didn’t get the feeling that Miles was going to be thrilled with him at the moment. Guilt flooded him at the realization that he’d avoided his friend mercilessly the entire summer, and now he was going to have to lie to him on top of it.

“Sam,” Miles said, jumping down from the hood of the beat up car he’d been sitting on. Sam realized this must be his, and felt another twinge of guilt for not knowing his friend had gotten a car finally.

“Hey Miles,” Sam replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“So.”

“Yeah.”

They were both silent for a long moment, before Sam sighed. “Look, Miles, I’m really sorry about this summer, man. Things were…intense…and I didn’t want you caught up in the middle of it. I should’ve called or something.”

“Yeah, you probably should’ve,” Miles replied. “I mean, I had to hear about the chick while I was on my family vacation, from Jake of all people, weeks after the fact. And then I saw you driving that kick-ass car around town, but did I ever get a call saying you had one of the hottest cards in town? No. And then I hear about you kicking Trent’s ass when we come back to school and everyone’s talking about it. And _then_ -”

“Hey, dude, I know, I’m a wicked bad friend,” Sam said, not able to stand hearing anymore, especially since he knew all of the accusations were basically true. “For what it’s worth, ‘Kaela and I broke up. And Trent was drunk of his ass and I never actually touched him. And that car…well, there’s a story there, but not for right now. Look, you heard about Mission City right?”

“All that crap on the news? Course I heard about it. _Everyone_ heard about it on the news. Some crazy military experiment gone wrong, lot of people dead.”

 _Is that what they’re saying? I should have watched the news more this summer…_ “Miles, I was _there_ ,” Sam said quietly. “I can’t talk about it much, a lot of it was hushed up by the government…but it was bad. And some shit happened there that…well, like I said, I couldn’t talk about. I’m sorry. Facing people after all that was rough. Yeah, I should’ve called you, and I’m sorry I didn’t…but could you try not to hold it against me?”

Miles’ eyes had widened considerably. “Dude, you were _there?_ ” he asked in awe.

And just like that, all was forgiven. Miles wanted to know everything that Sam was allowed to talk about dealing with Mission City (Sam used his bullshitting skills to the max and felt guilty the entire time), and then they talked and laughed for a few minutes, catching up (as much as Sam was allowed to catch his friend up, anyway), and trying to forget that for the first summer ever, they hadn’t spoken.

“So, dude, can I check out that hot ride you have? And _how_ did you manage that, anyway?”

Sam laughed. “Well…it sorta has to do with stuff I can’t talk about…but yeah, you can go take a look. I’d give you a ride home, but you seem to be doing okay in the car department.”

Miles glanced over at the beat up blue Chevy El Camino he’d been sitting on earlier. “Yeah, finally talked my parents into it for senior year. It took awhile, but I snagged that girl. She’s not much to look at, but she rides like a _dream._ ”

They made their way over to where Bumblebee sat gleaming in the sunlight and Sam, as he always subconsciously did, ran a hand lightly over the hood in greeting. **How you doin’ buddy?**

**I am well, Sam, and glad to see you with old friends.**

“ _Duuuuuuuuuude,_ ” Miles said with a low whistle. “Look at this baby. This is a hell of a gorgeous car, man! Someone up there must _love_ you! A car like this will get you any girl you want!”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, well, not really in the girl market at the moment, but it’s a nice thought.”

“So you and the ‘evil jock concubine’ broke up, did you?”

“Yes, and don’t call her that,” Sam admonished. “We’re still friends. Good friends, in fact, and she’s not a huge fan of Trent and his cronies anymore either.”

“Hey man, that’s cool with me. Just seemed weird, y’know. You’ve been after her since the first grade, and when you finally get her…poof. What happened?”

It didn’t hurt as much as it had to think about what he’d lost. But it still hurt. Sam managed a shrug. “We worked better as friends, that’s all. Besides, my only true love can ever be this car.” He was proud when he even pulled off another laugh.

**Indeed?**

**Shut it, Bee.**

“Yeah, well, I’d probably feel the same way if I was cruising around in a car like this one,” Miles agreed.

88888

The end of the day finally came, not nearly fast enough for Sam’s taste, but it came. After he parted ways with Miles, he trudged off to Math, endured more whispering and raised eyebrows, sat with Bumblebee throughout his free period, and managed not to snore his way through English. When the final bell rang, he was up like a shot and racing through the halls to get the hell out.

“Hey, Sam, wait up!” Mikaela said, coming up from behind him with a laugh. “You mind if I hitch a ride home? I took the bus here, but I hate it.”

“Fine by me, I need to talk to you about Trent anyway,” he said. “Y’know, I don’t mind giving you a ride to and from school until you can get your own car. I doubt Bee will mind either.”

She breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Do you know how awesome you are?”

“I have some idea,” he grinned.

They climbed into the Camaro and Sam ran a hand over the steering wheel. “Hey, Bee, we don’t mind picking up ‘Kaela and bringing her home from school, right?”

The engine revved in response and Sam shot another grin at his friend. “See? Told ya.”

“Thanks, Bee,” Mikaela said with a smile of her own.

They pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the main street, talking animatedly about the first day and all the horrors the new school year would bring, feeling relaxed and happy despite the trials they both knew were still coming.

They did not notice the bright red eyes that watched their every move from the shadows.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing Sam was aware of was the pain. It was bone deep, and left no part of him untouched. An aching, debilitating pain that spread from top to bottom, covering him like a blanket. When he tried to move his hand, it was like icy fire, and he cried out, an involuntary scream of distress.

“You would do well to try not to move, hybrid.”

He couldn’t open his eyes, and his Cybertronian optic was apparently offline as well, as no information was seeping through on his current whereabouts or conditions. He was relatively sure that wasn’t Starscream’s voice…which was good. But it was definitely Decepticon…which was really _not_ good.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what I’ve done to you.” The voice was conversational, but taunting, and for a moment, Sam hated it more than he’d ever hated anything in his entire life. “Your Autobots managed to forget one very important thing…very stupid of them. Security is something they’ve always taken for granted, the firewalls that protect them have been with them since they were Sparklings. You, however, are not so lucky. I’ve uploaded what you, in human terms, would think of as a virus. Directly into everything that makes you Cybertronian. It has paralyzed that side of you entirely, everything from your bone structure to your ability to transmit messages. Anything that could possibly help you right now.”

Sam struggled to remember what had happened…any snippet of information that could tell him how he came to be in the clutches of a Decepticon. He had a flash of driving home with Mikaela, and doing homework at his house…and later, unable to sleep, begging Bumblebee to take him to their spot. He remembered they talked for a few hours, Sam lying comfortably in the backseat of Bee’s Camaro form. And then…a flash of light, and then nothing. _Bee…what happened to Bee?_ He wondered desperately, but couldn’t force his mouth to form the words.

“No doubt you’re worried about your _guardian_.” The word was said with such distaste that Sam cringed. “Do not worry, hybrid, he lives. It would do me no good to kill him when I need the help of the Autobots.”

_Help?! This…this… **cretin** wants their **help**?!_

“I gather you find that amusing? Well, think what you will, but they _will_ help me.” Something moved, and Sam realized that the Decepticon was walking toward him. “Now that you’re here, and not much of a threat, I’m going to purge the virus in you. You will have everything back except for your weapons, and I’m sure you can understand why I can’t allow that. Prepare yourself, this may…tingle.”

Something sharp plunged into his neck, and Sam’s insides were filled with ice. His back arched, an inhuman scream tearing from his lungs as it spread, more debilitating than the pain had ever been, before, finally, it settled into an uncomfortable cold feeling in his bones. Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

His human eye took in his surroundings. He was in a dilapidated building of some sort, in a room that looked like it should have caved in years ago. The ceiling was cracked and bulged downward in the center, and the walls had spider-web cracks running through them all over the place. He was lying on what appeared to be a metal slab of some sort, and that was the only thing in the large room. Besides, of course, the Decepticon.

_Barricade._

His Cybertronian optic was able to tell him little more of any use, except that it was late afternoon, and as Barricade had promised, all his systems were back online, except for a red flashing light that indicated he had a weapons malfunction. He tried to access what he thought of as Autobot GPS, but another flashing light told him that that was also not working. He shot a glare at the Decepticon.

“I’m sure you’ve just realized that you also can’t access your coordinates. This, also, is for my protection. You have the ability to communicate with the Autobots and tell them you’re alive, but I have no desire to have them find me and offline me.”

“If you think kidnapping me is going to in any way get them to help you, you’re sadly mistaken,” Sam said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, that is not my goal, don’t worry. In the end, it will be _you_ who convinces them that helping me is in their best interest. But before I continue, you really should let you _friends_ know you’re alive. I’ve no doubt they’ve done nothing but worry about you since you disappeared.” Barricade sneered as only a Decepticon could.

As much as he hated admitting _anything_ the overgrown bully said could be true, he knew he was right. **Bumblebee?**

The response was almost immediate. **_Sam!_ Where are you?**

**I don’t know yet, Barricade did something to screw up my tracking system. Are you all right?**

**Barricade!** The name was growled. **I should have known. I am fine, Sam. Barricade never touched me, he must have grabbed you somehow when you walked away for a moment last night. Are _you_ all right?**

**I’m fine…he’s not really acting like he wants to hurt me. But I’ve got no way to escape, and no weapons to fight him. I just wanted to let you and the others know I was okay.**

**I’ll let them know. Optimus will probably contact you soon to get more information. Be _careful_ , Sam.**

**I will.**

The transmission ended, and Sam glared up at Barricade. “So now what?”

“Now, hybrid, I give the Autobots a gift.” At Sam’s confused expression, the Decepticon’s mocking smile turned evil. “I give them a soldier to add to their ranks that _isn’t_ useless.”

“I don’t understand…”

“They are much too soft to force you to do something you are afraid of. I, however, have no such qualms. Until you learn, you are utterly useless on a battlefield. So I’m taking it upon myself to make you learn the one thing you don’t want to.”

Sam shook his head, terror in his eyes. “No…you can’t…” He hadn’t realized he was so absolutely afraid of it, hadn’t known until right this instant how much the idea made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Oh yes, hybrid. You’re going to learn how to transform.”

88888

“Bumblebee, what’s up?” Mikaela asked as the yellow ‘bot terminated the connection he’d had with Sam.

“That was Sam,” he said, and Optimus, who was with them at the outlook, turned.

“Is he all right?” the leader asked.

“He seems to be,” Bee replied. “It was Barricade. We should have suspected, but I thought he was offlined during the battle at Mission City.”

“No, he was never accounted for,” Optimus said angrily.

“What, the coward ran away?” Mikaela asked, shocked.

“It wouldn’t be the first time a Decepticon decided to leave his comrades to save his own hide.” Bee was angry, and worried. “But Sam is with him, supposedly undamaged although he claims Barricade is blocking his coordinates, as well as his ability to use his weapons. He didn’t say what the Decepticon wanted, but I’m sure we can guess.”

“Bait.” The answer came from Mikaela. “He wants to use Sam as bait to trap the Autobots, right?”

“That would be my guess as well,” Optimus agreed. “But it doesn’t make sense…you said Sam was unhurt, and that isn’t like a Decepticon. If he wanted us to lunge in there on a half-baked rescue plan, he would have been better off using a Sam who was damaged and weak.”

Bee’s large fist clenched at the thought of his human in pain. “I don’t know what Barricade is up to, but he will not get away with it. We _must_ find them.”

“We will, Bumblebee,” Optimus promised. And then he was folding himself into a big-rig, and Mikaela was climbing inside his large cab as Bumblebee followed suit. Within moments, the truck and the Camaro were speeding down the highway at record speeds, the only thing on their minds the need to save their friend.

88888

Though Barricade had led him outside, Sam still had no idea where they were. There were trees on all sides, but there was a lot of forest in and around Tranquility, and that offered him no clues.

“You can’t do this,” he said desperately as the Decepticon did a perimeter sweep of the area. He wasn’t above begging, not for this. “Bumblebee was going to teach me, just not yet -”

“Ah yes, _Bumblebee_. The guardian. The _friend_ ,” Barricade said in that awful mocking tone. He turned sardonic eyes onto Sam. “I wonder if Autobots ever have a clue as to how galactically stupid they really are.”

Incensed on behalf of his friends, Sam glared. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, really, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, but apparently your stupid yellow ‘bot just isn’t all that bright. I wonder, really, just how _long_ it will take him to realize, through the haze of his overprotectiveness, that he’s rather ridiculously in love with you.”

Sam fell back a step as though struck by a physical blow. His mind reeled. “What?” he asked, voice shaky. “You don’t…know what you’re talking about.”

Barricade let out a malicious snort of laughter. “Of course not. What could an evil Decepticon possibly know about it, hmm? Well, you ask yourself that the next time you see him. The next time you notice how much he watches you, or the next time he goes out of his way to protect you, even from your mutual friends.”

Sam’s head was shaking _no_ , but he could not make a sound. Of course Barricade was crazy, this whole _thing_ was crazy, him _being_ here was crazy, and obviously the Decepticon was out of his mind. But -

“Now then, we were about to commence with training, right?”

And abruptly all thoughts of Bumblebee cut off. “No…please no…why are you doing this?”

“That is for me to know right now.”

“I _can’t_.”

“I assure you, you can,” Barricade said, and now his voice was menacing. “Is this who the human brave enough to befriend the Autobots truly is? A whiny brat, scared of his own shadow?”

Sam’s fist clenched, anger sparking in his eyes. “You have no idea. No idea _at all_ what I’ve been through the past few months. And you’re calling me _scared? You_ , who abandoned the rest of the Decepticons just before the final battle so you could run off like a _coward?_ ”

Barricade was the same size nearly as Bumblebee, relatively small by Cybertronian standards, but he was still intimidating under the best of circumstances. When he was angry…

He growled angrily and bent over until he was at eye level with Sam. “ _You_ , hybrid, would do well to keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand. I may yet decide you’re not worth my trouble.”

Sam swallowed, understanding the threat – this was a Decepticon, after all, who would have no problems killing Sam if it came down to it. The only reason he was still alive was because the bot needed something.

“Good,” Barricade said, straightening. “It is good that you still fear me, it might just save your pathetic life. Now, transform your arm.”

Sam was obviously not going to get anywhere by arguing. He took a breath, forced himself to calm. _I can do this. I can do this. I can do this_. He remembered Ironhide’s words, remembered that that ‘bot, as well, had wanted him to get over this fear, had wanted him to learn something important. So, he wasn’t doing it for Barricade. He was doing it for Ironhide. That might get him through this nightmare. _I can do this._

As he had done in the past, he focused his mind inward, brought the Spark energy up and into his arm, felt it transform.

Something was different, he realized, and it took him a moment to realize what it was. Barricade had somehow locked onto his energy and grasped it. It wasn’t just his arm transforming, Barricade was forcing a full-fledged transformation.

“ _No!_ ” he yelled at the Decepticon, panicked.

”You obviously don’t have the guts to do it yourself, so I’m helping you along,” Barricade growled.

The change seeped up into his shoulder, over his chest. He was shaking, breathing erratically, trying to pull away from the mental grasp Barricade had on him, but he couldn’t. He heard his shirt tear as the flesh on his back and stomach gave way to metal armor. The change went lower, over his hips, his groin, his legs.

The last thing was his head, and this he fought against with every fiber of his being, but Barricade was stronger than he was, more experienced, and the battle was lost before it ever began.

When he felt the hold break, he dropped to his knees on the ground, using his hands to catch himself. Hands shrouded in midnight-black metallic armor. Hands that were not his own.

“Damn you!” he yelled, and then gasped when his voice came out sounding more machine than human. It was _his_ voice still, but with a mechanical sound that didn’t belong, almost like it was being heard through an old radio or intercom.

Barricade said nothing, only observed the changes in the young hybrid. “Interesting,” he said. “Somewhere in your travels, you appear to have already acquired a suitable alternate form.”

“What?” Sam said, wearily glancing up at the Decepticon. His breathing was returning to normal, the panic receding now that it was over. What was done was done, and there was no going back. Instead, a bone-weary sadness was taking its place. He had grasped as tightly as he could to the delusion that he was still human, and that had been torn from him.

“I expected that when you fully transformed into your Cybertronian form, you would only have a protoform, as I had not believed you could have scanned and replicated a vehicle mode yet. It appears, judging by your armor and appearance, I was mistaken.”

“That’s not possible. I’ve never transformed before. I don’t even know _how_ to scan a vehicle.” He stood on legs that should have felt wobbly, but instead felt incredibly strong. There was no weakness to this body, no part of him that felt vulnerable. It was almost a rush, but he shied away from that thought before it could even fully enter his brain. The whirring and clicking that he’d always associated with the movements of his friends sounded strange coming from him, and he focused on that strangeness instead.

“Much of what you’ve learned already could have been learned by instinct. You learned to put yourself into stasis before you even completed your transformation. It’s possible this happened the same way. Perhaps you saw a vehicle and focused on it, thinking of how much you liked it, and somewhere the Cybertronian side of you caught on.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “How long have you been following me?”

“Since just after Mission City. It was a stroke of luck when I realized your part in this could be far greater than I had expected.” Barricade was silent for a moment, then, “Seeing as we’ve come this far, it would be a shame to stop. I’d like you to transform into your vehicle mode, to see what it is. You’ve got nothing to lose anymore.”

The worst part, Sam thought, was realizing that the scumbag was right. “I don’t know how,” he said through clenched teeth.

The Decepticon smirked that same mocking smirk. “If you can transform one way, you can transform all ways. Cybertronians typically have a switch, if you will, that we can ‘flip’ – this enables us to transform. You’ve saved yourself a step by subconsciously scanning a form already. Ratchet taught you to use meditation, and I see no reason why you can’t continue to use that same method. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it, is that not the human term?” He waved a hand. “Proceed, we haven’t got all day.”

“I think I almost liked you better when you were throwing me on top of cars and in my face yelling at me about my eBay ID,” Sam muttered, but did as he was told and closed his eyes, focusing his mind inward for a second time.

The energy seemed brighter now, that Spark buried deep inside him, and when he grasped it in this form, he could actually feel it spark and sizzle within him. Unlike the transformation from human to Cybertronian, this transformation required no effort, no prompting of any kind. He touched the energy within him and it _exploded_ outward.

He did not notice the whirs and clicks and mechanical sounds this time. With closed eyes, he noticed only the energy, expanding and contracting where it was needed. His perception folded in on itself, he _felt_ himself shrinking, and while his human mind thought, _this should be painful_ , it was more like a pleasant tickle.

He knew the second it was over. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he didn’t think it was this. He could still _see_ , but it wasn’t like his normal vision. It was lower, for one thing. And his peripheral vision was spread wider. He could see Barricade in front of him, and the Decepticon looked almost… _proud_. But that couldn’t be right. Sam figured he was still getting used to this different form of sight.

“Congratulations, Sam Witwicky. You are now a somewhat worthwhile soldier.”

”I hope you burn in the most fiery depths of hell. Just so you know. You could at least be helpful and tell me what I look like.” Whatever he was, it felt powerful. Without consciously knowing how he did it, he revved his engine, and _that_ felt good as well. _Damned if I couldn’t actually get used to this_ , Sam thought, and this time he didn’t shy away from it.

Barricade turned his head a little and twin beams of light shot from his eyes. A hologram formed in front of him, and Sam couldn’t help but stare. It was a motorcycle, but it was a _nice_ motorcycle. He didn’t know much about bikes except that Harleys were what every guy craved. This wasn’t a Harley, but it was built for speed and for power and he imaged that that form on a Cybertronian frame was going to kick some serious ass.

“You appear to be a 2008 Yamaha YZF-R6. A nice motorcycle, from all accounts on the world wide web, built for speed, which is always helpful.” Barricade flicked the hologram off, and, with effort, Sam forced himself to transform back. “Very good, you can reverse transform already. Now to human…”

Sam followed the instructions, and found himself breathing a sigh of relief to be back in his own skin. “Well, this has been an…adventure,” he stated. “I don’t suppose I can go yet?”

“Now where would the fun in that be?” Barricade asked. “Do not worry, your friends are on their way. I sent them a transmission half an hour ago with out whereabouts, and while I will be long gone by the time they get here, you will be safely back in their care. With your precious _Bumblebee_.” He smirked again.

Sam didn’t allow himself to rise to the bait, didn’t allow himself to even _think_ about that. Not yet. Instead, he stared. “ _What?_ Just like that? What’s your game, Barricade?”

“I told you I need their help. It will benefit all of you to help me with what I require, and I believe I have already proven that I am trustworthy.”

Sam snorted. “Just because you didn’t kill me doesn’t make you trustworthy.”

The Decepticon conceded the point with a nod. “Regardless, my request is simple and, as I said, will benefit you all. Handing you back over to your friends will simply ensure that they have no reason to fully _distrust_ me.”

“Sure. Like they didn’t have enough reasons already,” Sam muttered. “And what is it you need?” he asked warily.

“I need your help destroying Starscream.”


	11. Chapter 11

_I wonder just how long it will take him to realize that he’s rather ridiculously in love with you._

Those words haunted Sam, long after Barricade had left him alone to wait for his friends. Despite all of the things the Decepticon had said after, all the haunting truths about what it was like fighting a war you wanted no part of, how malicious Starscream was, how much he wanted no part of the would-be new leader’s plans…even after all that, it was _those words_ that wouldn’t leave Sam, _those words_ that played on a continual loop in his head.

_I wonder just how long it will take him to realize that he’s rather ridiculously in love with you._

It couldn’t be true, of course, and Sam _knew_ that, because Bee was his best friend, but had certainly never shown that he felt any more for the human-turned-hybrid. And surely, _surely_ Bumblebee wouldn’t hide something like that from Sam.

Unless, of course, he hadn’t realized _what_ he was feeling, as Barricade had suggested.

And why – _why!_ – was he obsessing over something a scumbag Decepticon said anyway? Barricade had only said it to throw him off-balance, not because it was actually true.

But what if it was?

_I wonder just how long it will take him to realize that he’s rather ridiculously in love with you._

The problem, Sam thought, with being part-Cybertronian is that suddenly your memory improved, a lot. He could remember every nuance, every inflection of the words that haunted him. He could remember with perfect clarity Barricade’s smirk, and the way one metallic eyebrow had lifted in amusement at Sam’s reaction. He could remember _everything_ , and all he wanted was to forget. Words that would have blended together until they were meaningless in a human mind stayed sharp and meaningful in a hybrid one.

And what did it matter? Even if there _was_ some truth to the words, even if Bumblebee did have… _romantic_ feeling for him (And it was too ridiculous, it _couldn’t_ actually be true), Sam didn’t feel that way at all, and so it wouldn’t matter. They could ignore it until it went away. Right?

Obviously, right. Sam had spent the better part of twelve years desperately in love with Mikaela Banes, long before she even knew he existed. He’d still be with her if it wouldn’t be hopelessly unfair to both of them. Of course Sam couldn’t have felt that way about Bee. Of course not.

_I wonder just how long it will take him to realize that he’s rather ridiculously in love with you._

He had to stop thinking about it, and there was only one way he knew how to do that. It spoke volumes that he preferred the fear of losing his human half to thinking all the confusing thoughts about Bumblebee, but he didn’t dwell on that irony either. He discarded his pants, which had miraculously survived the last time (the only article of clothing to have been so lucky), and let the change come, embraced it. It was harder to do without Barricade controlling how the change went, or controlling how fast it happened.

_I can’t be afraid of myself anymore._

His arms changed first, that was the easy part. From there, small, overlapping triangular plates shot down his spine, and larger, heavier plates spread from those to cover his back and wrap around to his chest and stomach, where they met at the edges of the single, largest plate that covered his chest where his Spark lay. A jointed ring of metal circled his neck, and for half an instant, he felt like it was choking him before forcefully shaking the fear off. The change moved down his legs, and they were overtaken by plates that were more jointed and overlapping for a larger range of movement, like his arms. All that was left was his head, and he felt his hair disappear to be taken over by a cap of black metal. His facial features changed, becoming sharper, but still slightly rounded. The change was completed when even the inside of his moth turned to the Cybertronian metal, and Sam closed his eyes and took a breath out of human habit.

 _I did it…on my own, I did it_. He’d have to get faster if he wanted to be of any use, and the clothing thing was going to become an issue, but he’d done it.

His mind screamed at him to change back, to be human again, but he didn’t listen to it. He would make himself get over this fear if it killed him. Instead, he sat on the ground, closed his eyes, and let his mind shut down. If sheer willpower couldn’t overcome the fear, maybe meditation could at least calm it.

88888

Bumblebee raced as though the hounds of hell were chasing him, to use a human expression. He, Optimus and Mikaela had been on their way to contact Will Lennox to see if the government had any leads when out of the blue, Barricade’s transmission had come through.

**Here are the coordinates. Come and collect your worthless charge.**

That was all that had been said, but it was enough. They had turned around and headed in the opposite direction, toward a forest about fifty miles east of Tranquility. Somewhere along the way, Ironhide and Ratchet had caught up with them and they continued on.

They were nearing their destination. They would reach it in five-point-thirty-six minutes if Bee’s calculations were correct.

**Do you feel this is a trap, Optimus?**

**I feel it would be a mistake to go into any situation without being adequately prepared for it to _be_ a trap,** was the leader’s reply, and it did little to soothe Bee’s frayed nerves.

They were deep in the forest now, but following a road that was obviously used for emergency vehicles to pass through. In the distance, Bee’s optics focused on a sturdy structure that looked to have once been a storage facility of some type. That was where Sam would be.

With a last burst of speed, he tore into the clearing and ground to a halt, tearing up a wide trench of grass and dirt. The clearing that surrounded the building that seemed to form a very wide, perfect circle. The abandoned warehouse sat on the outer reaches of the clearing, and directly in the middle…

He did not hear the other Autobots charge into the clearing, could not acknowledge Mikaela’s sharp gasp that came through Optimus’ open window. His sole focus was on Sam, for it could only be Sam, who sat in the direct center of the wide clearing.

His eyes were closed, and he sat in a position that Bumblebee recognized as the one he always used to meditate. He had seen it many times now, as Sam used the meditative techniques Ratchet had taught him whenever he needed to calm himself, or focus on something difficult. But he had never seen it from a fully-transformed Autobot Sam.

He was nearly the same height as when he was human, which made him a very small Autobot by any standards. But his armor – midnight black with shots of silver chrome – was purely Autobot. He had no idea what vehicle his charge turned into, but whatever it was, it was obviously very sleek and very powerful.

With wonder in his optics, he transformed from Camaro to Autobot and took a step forward. “Sam?”

The much smaller ‘bot’s eyes opened, and Bee was struck, as he always was when Sam was in human form, by the two different eyes. The Cybertronian one was much the same as it always was, but in this form, the eye that was normally human glowed as well, and instead of blue, it glowed a soft, pure white.

“Bee,” Sam said softly, coming to his feet. He glanced around. “The whole cavalry’s here, eh?”

“Sam, you’re,” _beautiful_ , “all right. I am glad. We were all very worried,” Bee said, his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Sam replied. “Just practicing while I waited for you to show up.”

“Practicing what?” Mikaela, who had jumped out from Optimus’ cab to allow him to transform, asked quietly, stepping toward him.

He gave her what amounted to a small smile in Autobot terms. “Practicing not being afraid of myself.”

Mikaela wrapped her arms around him, showing no fear at all for his strange new appearance. He leaned down to whisper something in her ear, and she giggled and turned away. Bee watched as Sam’s featured melted back to human and he tugged his pants back on. He felt a deep twinge of sadness for what his human must have gone through to achieve a full transformation. Then anger sparked when he realized that the Decepticon must have had something to do with it. “Where is Barricade?” he growled.

Sam glanced around, tapping Mikaela on the shoulder to let her know it was safe to look again. “We probably shouldn’t talk here. Barricade’s a better spy then any of us ever gave him credit for, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he was still monitoring this area. I’d like to go home, anyway.”

88888

Sam sat in the driver’s seat, but let Bumblebee do the driving. He was exhausted mentally, and hoped that dropping into stasis for a few hours would help. The drive back to Tranquility, driving at legal speed limits, was just about three hours, so Bee happily agreed to ‘take the wheel’, so to speak, and let Sam get the rest he required.

The nice thing about being part Autobot was that it took minimal effort to put oneself to sleep, unlike being human where you tossed and turned, and typically couldn’t fall asleep at all if too much was on your mind. And once his Cybertronian half shut down, his human half followed easily. So when Bee woke him, informing him that they were nearly to their destination, he felt refreshed and rejuvenated, and very, very grateful for it.

It was either extremely late, or extremely early depending on your point of view, but the full moon still lit the dark sky, casting a soft glow over the whole of the outlook as they arrived. Sam felt bad for Mikaela, who seemed to have gotten a little sleep while riding with Optimus, but not nearly enough. Still, she nodded to him with a small smile, letting him know she would be all right. He grabbed a t-shirt from the backseat, grateful that since he’s taken to going out with Bee at night, he kept a spare change of clothes in the Camaro, shrugged into it and clambered out.

Ironhide and Ratchet were close behind them, and when they pulled up, all four Autobots transformed and stood in a wide semi-circle around Sam and Mikaela.

“We are awaiting one more person, and he should be here momentarily,” Ironhide said. “Will had already been traveling most of the day looking for you, and was not far away when I contacted him. I thought it could benefit us having him here, rather than explaining this multiple times.”

Sam nodded. “I appreciate the foresight. Actually, it’ll be _very_ good having him here, since we’ll probably need him.”

The weapons specialist glared at him suspiciously, but Sam stayed firmly closed-mouthed after that. They only had to wait about five minutes before the low rumble of Will’s old pickup truck alerted them that he was coming. He pulled up and hopped out, striding purposefully over to the waiting group.

“Sam, it’s good to see you all right,” he said, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

“Thanks for coming, Will,” Sam said with a smile. He glanced around at all of his friends. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase here. Barricade took me for two reasons. The first was so that he could force me to learn to fully transform. He was convinced that you were all too ‘soft’ to force the issue, and he wanted me ready to fight if the time comes when I have to. While I don’t appreciate his…methods…he was right. It was something I had to do, and now that I have, I’m not so afraid of it anymore.” _Much_ , he thought, but left that unspoken.

“The second reason was because he wants the help of the Autobots, and I was the only one he trusted to relay the message.”

“Help with what?” Ironhide asked suspiciously.

“It doesn’t matter. We will not offer any assistance to Decepticon scum.” This from Bee, who looked very tense.

“Bee, just hear me out,” Sam said. “It would be a huge benefit to all of us to help him.”

“Why don’t you explain, Sam?” Optimus suggested, silencing the others with a stern look.

“Barricade was contacted by Starscream two days ago. Starscream has been out, trying to locate any remaining Decepticons. He’s been moderately successful so far, and when he picked up my transmissions after the change, he assumed that a new Autobot had made it to earth. He’s currently on his way back with his new recruits, and has asked Barricade to be ready for an attack. He wants to take out the newbie, me, as quickly as possible, before we have a chance to be ready for them.”

“Why would -”

“ _Hush_ , Bumblebee,” Optimus said. Sam shot his friend an apologetic look.

“Barricade told me all of this because he wants no part in Starscream’s plans. For a couple of reasons, but mostly because Starscream is trying to implant himself as the new Decepticon leader, and Barricade refuses to follow the orders of someone he can’t tolerate. The other reason he gave is that he doesn’t want to be part of any more war. He claims he’s sick of it, and would rather help the Autobots if it meant the fighting would be over sooner.” Sam paused. “You can take that however you want, or believe it if you choose to. I know he’s never given us any reason to trust him, and he didn’t exactly make the best impression on me during the past day. But…I believe him in this. I can’t really say why, but I really think he’s sincere about not wanting to be a part of the war anymore. And I don’t think this is all some trick to get something else.”

Optimus appeared thoughtful. “I do not trust the Decepticon,” he said slowly. “However, I do trust your intuition, Sam. This is something you truly believe? That Barricade wants nothing more than to destroy Starscream and the live in relative peace?”

“Yes,” Sam said firmly. “If it was a trick, and he was working for Starscream, why go to all the trouble of helping me become more powerful, more able to fight? It _could_ be a trick to gain trust, but it would be a risky one for someone who obviously isn’t big on taking risks in the first place. There’s something else, too…another part of Starscream’s plans, and it’s much worse.” Sam paused, took a breath.

“He claims he’s found a way to bring Megatron back. Barricade doesn’t know much, except that it will take a huge amount of Spark energy, something he’s planning on acquiring by destroying all the Autobots he can get his hands on. Barricade is also relatively sure that if that doesn’t work the way he wants, he’ll stoop low enough to use spark energy from his Decepticon team. He’s desperate.”

Now Optimus looked truly worried. “We cannot allow even the slightest chance that Starscream succeed in this, and we cannot guarantee that he’s bluffing.” He glanced around at the rest of the Autobots, at Mikaela, at Will. Each face was set, each body tensed. “We will join with Barricade in a war against Starscream.”


	12. Chapter 12

The next hour was spent planning and strategizing, until Mikaela unsuccessfully tried to smother a loud yawn and Sam suggested they take a break until the following evening.

As the others left the clearing, Sam motioned to Bumblebee to wait for him for a second and made his way over to Optimus.

“What is it you need, Sam?” the Autobot leader rumbled.

“This isn’t going to be an easy battle, no matter how you look at it, and we could use all the help we can get.” Sam paused for a moment. “Have any other Autobots made it to earth? Have any at all communicated with you?”

Optimus sighed, another human habit that would have made Sam grin in other circumstances. “I’m afraid not. There was one incident…but it was very brief, and I believe I was mistaken in initially thinking it was anything more than it was.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“About a month ago, somewhere very close to here, I detected what I presumed was a Cybertronian signal. But it cut off almost immediately, and despite my efforts, I was never able to locate it. Had it been an Autobot, they would have contacted me by now, and had it been a Decepticon, we certainly would have known by now, as they would have gone after you almost immediately.” Optimus shook his head. “I’m afraid we’ll likely be on our own in this, Sam. We can only hope that Starscream does not have as many new recruits as he boasts.”

“Damn.” Letting out a sigh, Sam shrugged. “Well, we took out Megatron, I’m willing to bet we can take on anything.”

88888

Later, as the sun was slowly creeping toward the horizon, Sam lay in the back seat of the Camaro, his head pillowed on his right arm, eyes open but unfocused.

“You’re very quiet, Sam,” Bumblebee said softly.

“Lot on my mind,” was the equally quiet reply. Sam sighed. “So much going on, and today just…well, sucked, actually. I mean, clearly it’s a great idea for me to be able to actually transform, y’know? But the choice was just…ripped away from me. I didn’t have any control. And part of me is grateful, because I’m not sure I could have done it on my own _ever_ , but a bigger part…well, it sucks, that’s all.”

Bumblebee’s engine rumbled, a sign Sam knew to take as his friend being agitated. “I am so sorry, Sam, that I couldn’t better protect you from Barricade.”

Sam sat up. “No, Bee, it’s not your fault. Barricade was determined, nothing could have stopped him and you know it. He’d been following us for weeks. Don’t blame yourself. Nothing too horrible came out of it.”

“But something could have,” the ‘bot all but growled. “Something could have happened to you and it would have been my fault for not better protecting you.”

“Bee, calm down,” Sam said as soothingly as he could. “Nothing happened, and my getting taken was not your fault. I should be able to protect _myself_ now, that was the whole point. You can’t be everywhere, Bee, and there will be times I have to watch my own back. I don’t blame you. You shouldn’t either.”

The engine rumbled a little. “If something had happened to you, I don’t know what I would have done, Sam.” This was said very quietly, and jolted Sam’s thoughts back again to Barricade’s words.

_I wonder just how long it will take him to realize that he’s rather ridiculously in love with you._

_Ask yourself the next time you see him. The next time you notice how much he watches you, or the next time he goes out of his way to protect you…_

“But nothing did happen. I’m fine, Bee, I promise,” Sam finally replied, his mind reeling. “Please don’t beat yourself up.” _Let it go Witwicky, just let it go._

“I will try not to,” Bee said, but he sounded less than convincing to Sam.

Eager to change the subject, Sam turned his mind to another pressing matter. “Hey, Bee, there is one thing I could use your help with.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Well, Barricade mentioned something about a firewall that protects all of you from things that act like computer viruses. He said that you’ve had them basically since going online, and that’s why you took them for granted. But it’s something I’m going to need, and I don’t know how to do it myself.” Sam shivered a little, remembering the bone deep pain of whatever it had been that Barricade had infected him with.

Bee was silent.

“Bumblebee?”

“That’s how he took you, why you couldn’t defend yourself.”

Hesitantly, Sam nodded. “Yes.”

“We were careless.” Bee’s mechanical voice was filled with self-loathing, and it tore at Sam’s heart to hear it.

“No, you weren’t. It’s easy to overlook something that you’ve never consciously thought about having. But can you help me now, so it doesn’t happen again? That’s what counts.”

Bee hesitated. “It is something that must be downloaded directly into your Cybertronian structure, through a cable from one of us. To do it, you’ll have to transform fully until the download is complete. Also, during the process you will be in stasis that you will not be able to exit until it is finished. It will require implicit trust.”

Sam sat up. “Bee, I trust you more than anyone else on this planet. You know that.”

“I am not sure I deserve the trust and faith you have placed in me.” Before Sam could voice his loud protest, Bee continued. “But if that is your wish, then of course I will help you. When would you like to proceed?”

With a sigh, Sam replied, “As soon as possible. I’d really rather not be incapacitated like that again.”

“It is just nearing four o’clock a.m. The download will take three-point-two-four hours to complete. If we begin now, it can be finished and you can be protected in time for you to still make it to morning classes.”

Sam quirked a smile. “Why are we worried about me making it to school again?”

“To keep up appearances, and I believe it was your idea.”

“Oh. Right. Damn.” He clambered out of the car and waited while Bumblebee transformed. “So what should I do?”

“After you have completed your transformation, I believe it will be best if you lie down. I will connect a small cable to a spot just below the plate that protects your spark. You will instantly go into stasis. Then I will begin transmitting the download into your system. If all goes as it should, by the time you exit stasis, the firewall will be in place and you will not have to think about it again.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said, then quietly added, “minus the first part.”

“It still makes you uncomfortable.” It was not a question.

Sam replied while slipping his shoes and shirt off simultaneously. “How would you feel if you were told to become a human being? Even if it was still you, even knowing you could go back any time you wanted, wouldn’t the thought of being stuck in a body you were totally unfamiliar with be, at the very least, disquieting?”

“I do see your point,” Bee acknowledged. “But you still seem to have adapted much more readily than many in your position would have.”

“Well, sure, maybe, but it’s not like I had a choice. And let’s not forget that I already spent the better part of three months completely freaking out. You remember when I first found out? I took a pocket knife to my arm.”

“I remember,” Bee said quietly.

Sam threw his shirt on the ground and glanced over at his best friend solemnly. “I also remember that afterwards, it was you who came and completely drained yourself to make sure I was all right, and it was you who promised I would make it through everything.”

Bumblebee did not look away, only said very simply, “You are my friend, Sam.”

“And yet you still wonder how I can trust you.” Sam smiled and shook his head. “Crazy giant robot.” He shucked the last of his clothes and closed his eyes, reaching down into himself toward the spark resting within him. As before, the power flowed out, and he let the change come as quickly as he could, shivering only slightly as the metal took over his body. When it was over, he glanced back up at Bee. “Just lie down here?”

“Yes.”

Sam did as he was told, grateful that at least in this form, the ground was not in the least bit uncomfortable, even if he himself was. Bee reached over and flipped open a small triangular plate that rested just below the large one the covered his chest. From his own arm, he disconnected a small, inconspicuous black cable and attached it to the small opening.

“I will begin the download now,” he said, and Sam nodded. “I will make sure you remain safe until it is finished.”

Sam smiled a little, to the extent that the robotic face allowed. “I know. Thank you, Bee.” And then his optics dimmed, and he knew no more.


	13. Chapter 13

The sun was shining when he came out of stasis, and the day was warming quickly according to his temperature gauge. Bumblebee was hovering close to him, running a scan to make sure everything was in order.

“Sam, how do you feel?” the yellow ‘bot asked.

Sam sat up, trying to ignore the whirring and clicking noises of his body as he did so. “A headache, mild. Pretty much okay otherwise.” A flash behind his eyes, and image that came and went in a millisecond. “What…” Another one, longer this time, a blue and red blur flying through his memory.

“What is it, Sam?” Bumblebee asked, concerned.

“Stuff…in my head…wasn’t there before. I don’t think it’s the firewall. They’re like…” A third image, smoke rising from a ruined battleground. “…memories.” He looked up at Bee. “I’m remembering Cybertron…I think…”

Bumblebee had frozen, staring at Sam. “That’s not possible,” he said, his mechanical voice pitched just a tad higher than normal.

Sam’s mind conjured an image of hurtling through space, stars whizzing by at dizzying rates. “Apparently it is,” he said.

“I have transferred other data and downloads to numerous Autobots, and that has never been an effect, for anyone as far as I’m aware.” Bee looked troubled.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Bee. But there’s extra stuff in my head that definitely wasn’t there before. And hey, it’s not like I’m exactly a normal Autobot. It could just be a weird effect of being a hybrid.”

“Or perhaps…” Bee mumbled, speaking to himself now.

“Perhaps…what?”

“Nothing, Sam,” Bee replied, too quickly. “Nothing at least you need to worry about. I apologize, I had not perceived this as an effect of the transfer. Are the images…troubling to you?”

“No,” Sam assured, only being a little dishonest. The images _were_ troubling, seeing Cybertron destroyed as he (Bee) watched, seeing soldiers and friends being torn apart as they endlessly battled Decepticons, watching as Optimus made the final decision to send the Allspark as far away as possible. But he didn’t need Bee worrying that he couldn’t handle them, didn’t want his friend feeling guilty about _another_ thing that couldn’t be helped now anyway. “There’s just a lot of them…I’ll have to find a way to block them or something, or it’ll get a little distracting.”

Bee still looked bothered, but he nodded and said only, “We should probably get going or we will be late to pick Mikaela up.”

Sam nodded and, breathing a sigh of relief, watched his skin emerge from the heavy metal plates. Bee transformed back to Camaro form as he got dressed, remembering to remove his eye patch from the pocket of his jeans and slip that on as well, and then they were off, each thinking their own thoughts, conversation more stilted between them than it had been in a long time.

88888

Sam was, of course, right in the middle of History class when Barricade contacted him.

**I trust you’ve had ample time to discuss the situation with the Autobots?**

Sam, so surprised to hear the deep growl in the middle of Mr. Hosney’s classroom, jerked in surprise, causing his book to tumble to the ground and the whole class to turn and stare at him, Mikaela with a hint of worry in her eyes.

“Mr. Witwicky, is there a problem?” Mr. Hosney asked with a long-suffering sigh.

“No sir,” Sam mumbled, snatching his book up and slinking down in his chair. A few people in the class snickered, but that was the end of it, and the lecture continued. He quickly turned to shoot Mikaela a wink to let her know everything was fine.

**You’ve been following me for weeks, so you clearly know I have school, right?**

**Ah yes, that ridiculous human tradition of sending their children off every day for many years to learn absolutely nothing of significance that they couldn’t learn on their own or from the very people sending them off. Of course. Stop wasting my time, hybrid, and tell me what they said.**

Sam schooled his expression and just managed to keep his growl in check, wondering for the hundredth time if they were doing the right thing in helping Barricade. **Optimus has agreed that we’ll help you stop Starscream, but there are conditions, and you won’t like them.**

Barricade’s voice dropped, becoming more menacing. **What sort of conditions?**

 **We’ll help stop Starscream no matter what. We can’t afford to allow him to resurrect Megatron no matter what the circumstances. However, he’s not willing to allow you to work with us directly, or to help ensure your safety, unless you agree to one thing.** Keeping his eyes steadily focused on the front of the classroom, Sam outlined to the increasingly outraged Decepticon what that one thing was. When he was finished, there was a long silence.

**I will consider the matter and contact you again with my decision.**

And then his head was blissfully silent. Leaning back in his chair with a small smirk, he transmitted to the Autobots, **Barricade is seriously considering your request. He’ll get back to me later, but I doubt he’ll refuse. He wants the protection of the Autobots too much.**

88888

During lunch, Sam was sought out by Miles, who had a strange look on his face. “Hey dude, what’s up?” he said, scooting over on his bench to make room and taking a large bite out of his sandwich.

“Nothing,” was the reply…too quick, and it caught Sam’s attention. He lowered the half-eaten sandwich.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, course dude.” Again, it was too fast, the voice just a little too high.

Sam stood and tilted his head to indicate Miles should follow him outside. The other boy sighed and stood to follow. Sam led him out to where Bumblebee was parked and turned to face his friend. “All right, we’re away from the crowded cafeteria, just the two of us. Tell me what’s up.”

Miles fidgeted. “It’s really nothing, it’s stupid.”

Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Miles, man, it’s _me_.”

Miles shuffled his foot a bit. “All right, but you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

Sam laughed. “Miles, dude, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve _always_ been crazy. Nothing new there.”

“Well…this is different.” More foot shuffling. “Dude, I think my car is alive.”

Sam abruptly stopped laughing. “Come again?”

“See? Crazy,” Miles said. “Dude, but I swear, that car…it sometimes acts like it’s driving itself. Like, if I’m not paying attention and I’m about to miss a turn, it _turns itself_. Or the other day, it like, I dunno, sorta sped up…without me touching the gas pedal. And there’s other weird stuff too.”

“Miles…you sure about this man? Like, totally sure?” **Bee, could an Autobot have made it to earth without the government or Optimus knowing?**

 **It is unlikely, but not impossible…** the Autobot replied unsurely, at the same time as Miles said, “Dude, _totally_ sure.”

“Oh, Man,” Sam sighed. **Optimus mentioned just last night that he thought he had picked up a Cybertronian signal, but he never tracked it down, and wrote it off as a fluke.**

 **That’s not like him,** Bumblebee observed.

**I know. Maybe he knew and didn’t want to say anything until he could be sure? Or until Miles was ready to say something? Or until the newcomer was ready to say something?**

**Perhaps.**

“Are you even listening?” Miles mumbled.

“Yeah, I am,” Sam replied. “Miles, I don’t think you’re crazy, all right?” He shot a quick glance at the inconspicuous El Camino sitting toward the front of the lot, gleaming innocently in the sunlight.

“You don’t?” Miles asked, clearly shocked. “ _…Why?_ ”

Shaking his head, Sam sighed. “I can’t explain, not here and not right now. Do you remember the overlook we used to hang out at when we were kids?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Meet me there tonight, after dark. I’ll have to do some serious explaining then, but I need to check with someone else to be sure that what I think is going on really is.” At his friend’s confused expression, he said simply, “It has to do with Mission City, Miles.”

“Oh. _Oh._ ”

“And make sure you drive your car, don’t bus it or walk.”

“Sure, I’ll make sure I take Chromia.”

Underneath his hand, Bumblebee jerked, and Miles jumped almost a foot in the air.

“What the hell -”

**_What_ did he call his car!**

“Sam, your car just -”

**Sam, ask him to repeat that name!**

“Both of you shut up!” Sam yelled, then closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands as Miles stared at him with wide eyes. “Damn it.” He opened his eyes again and wearily stared at his friend. “Miles, just come to the outlook. I promise I’ll explain.” He turned to glance at his car. **Thank you so much, you’re helpful as always,** he snapped, a bit unfairly. **I’ll ask him when he’s not quite as freaked.**

 **I am sorry, Sam,** Bee said softly.

He ran a hand over the hood of the car, accepting the apology. **I know. Don’t worry about it.**

Miles was staring at him again. “Least if I’m crazy, I’m not the only one,” he muttered.

That pulled a surprised laugh from Sam, and he threw his arm around his friend and turned them back toward the school. “C’mon, let’s get to free period and pretend we’re normal, sane teenagers for a while.”

And that was exactly what they did. The study hall had only a few people in it, so they chose a table at the back to sit at, each taking out their piles of homework and working diligently for a solid half hour before Sam finally spoke up tentatively. “So when did you get your car?”

Miles looked up, seemingly surprised at the question. “Two weeks before school started. She’s sort of a fixer-upper, I mean you can see she has dents and damage all over the body, but she ran great, so my parents bought her for me.”

“Where’d you come up with the name? What was it again?”

“Chromia,” Miles replied with a small shrug. “That was weird, too. I was sitting in the front seat, thinking of things to call her, naming stuff out loud to see if they fit, and there was this…like…whisper. I just heard the name, right there in the car. Didn’t think much about it till later, when all the other weird stuff started.”

Sam nodded, thoughtful.

“What about your car? What’d you name her?”

“Him,” Sam corrected automatically. “And he came with a name. Bumblebee.” He smiled softly, and was surprised to hear a small snort from across the table.

“Dude, you weren’t kidding about your only true love being that car, were you?”

Stunned, Sam stared at his friend, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t compromise an already precarious position he was in with his still-out-of-the-loop friend. Saying, _no, he’s just my best friend_ would disquiet, and quite possibly hurt Miles. Saying, _Dude, it’s just a car_ was quite obviously a lie, even if the truth was thus far unverified. And agreeing just for the sake of agreeing…well, that would be a lie, too.

Wouldn’t it?

Finally, he settled on, “Well, it is a pretty great car.”

They quietly went back to work after that, but Sam’s thoughts were a chaotic mess for the rest of the day.


	14. Chapter 14

“So he just blurted it out like that?” Mikaela asked, wide-eyed.

“Yeah, basically just, ‘My car is alive’,” Sam affirmed. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, agitated. “It’s too much of a coincidence, an Autobot winding up with Miles of all people.”

“Are we sure it’s not a Decepticon?” Mikaela looked worried. “It would be the perfect plot for Starscream, having one of his recruits so close to you…so close to someone who’s already a friend of yours.”

It was Bumblebee who replied. “He called his car Chromia. She was – is – a well known Autobot, a close friend to many of us here on Earth. We always assumed she died on Cybertron.”

“But why hasn’t she contacted any of you?” Sam asked.

“It’s possible that she was badly damaged, and simply hasn’t been able to. Or that she’s simply waiting for the opportune moment. If she has been guarding your friend, it would have been difficult for her to get away and still keep him unaware.”

Sam snickered. “Yeah, you’d know all about that, huh Bee?”

“Indeed,” the ‘bot sniffed. “Humans are clearly more observant than we initially gave them credit for.”

“Some, at any rate,” Mikaela agreed, slanting a pointed look at Sam that he chose to ignore. “And hey, I have a random question. _She?_ There are _female_ giant robots from outer space?”

“We do not have ‘males’ and ‘females’ in the same way you think of them. Humans have given themselves these titles to distinguish each other for reproductive purposes. Cybertronians came into being through the Allspark, not through natural reproduction. However, there are those of us that are ‘feminine’, just as there are those of us who are ‘masculine’. Females were always very rare on Cybertron, though.”

Mikaela nodded thoughtfully. “So do you guys have relationships?”

Sam struggled not to sink down into the seat, knowing that both Bee and Mikaela would pick up on the motion. He focused very steadily on the road instead.

“Yes,” Bee said after a moment. “Just as we are capable of friendship, and the Decepticons are capable of fierce hatred, so are all Cybertronians capable of love. Of course, as we do not procreate as organic life forms do, bonds are not formed based on gender. And when one spark is drawn to another, that bond is there for as long as the two sparks still have life in them. One does not ‘fall out of love’, so to speak.”

Sam swallowed as quietly as possible, trying desperately to think of a way to change the subject. _Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, stop it, stop it, stop it…_ The mental chant did not help, but luckily that was when they pulled up to Mikaela’s house.

Of course, that was not to be his saving grace either as she said, “Hey Sam, can I talk to you inside for a minute?”

“Sure,” he replied, warily climbing out of the Camaro. He ran a hand along the hood, saying quietly, “Be right back, Bee.”

The inside of Mikaela’s house was exactly the opposite of what you’d expect. Clean – immaculately so – and done up in varying shades of pastels in every room, it was sparse, but also warm and inviting.

Usually.

She led the way to her room, then promptly turned on her heel, arms crossed, to stare at him. He gulped.

“What’s bothering you Sam?” she asked in her no-nonsense voice. “You’ve been weird since lunch, and it’s not just about Miles.”

“It’s nothing, ‘Kaela, really,” he tried, knowing it was fruitless. She simply raised an eyebrow and motioned him to sit on the bed. He did so after a moment, dropping his head onto his hands. “The world hates me,” he muttered.

Mikaela giggled a little and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It doesn’t. I promise. Now come on, what’s up? I’m worried about you.”

He sighed and lifted his eyes to hers. “Look, ‘Kaela, I don’t really think it’s anything you want to hear about, and I’m trying really hard not to think about it myself, and….just… _damn it_. It’s just something Barricade said that I _can’t_ get _out of_ my _head_.”

She stared at him for a long time as he dropped his head back onto his hands, her eyebrows scrunched up in though, and then a look of dawning illumination passed over her features. “ _Oh,_ ” she said softly. “I get it.” She drew her arm away, but made no move to get up. “He must have made a comment to get under your skin. Something, probably, about Bumblebee. About how he feels.”

Sam’s head jerked back up, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping. “How the hell -”

“I’m a girl, Sam. We know things,” she interrupted him with a grin, which quickly faded at his expression. “What? What did I say?”

“If you see it too, then it means Barricade wasn’t making it up just to get a rise out of me.”

Mikaela’s gaze softened. “You were really trying to convince yourself of that? Sam, I thought you were observant.” She was quiet again, just for a second, and then her eyes narrowed. “But that can’t be all this is about. You were a little out of it this morning and when we found you last night, but something happened specifically between lunch and our last class that put that look in your eye.”

“You’re not going to drop this, are you,” Sam asked, his tone utterly defeated.

“I can let it go if you want me to,” she replied gently. “But if it’s something you want to talk about, I can also listen.”

He stood up, started pacing. “I never thought about it. I mean, hell, until ten minutes ago, I never even considered that Autobots _had_ relationships, y’know? And Bumblebee is my _best friend_ , but God, I never thought of him as anything else. Not until Barricade… And I tried to let it go, I really did. I mean, yeah, he’s protective of me. But he’s my guardian, he’s been that way since day one. And sure, okay, he watches me all the time…but again, _guardian_. It’s what they do.” His hands were moving almost as fast as he was talking, his steps increasing their speed. One, two, three steps one way, pivot, one, two, three quick strides the other way, repeat.

“I couldn’t _forget_ what Barricade said, not with a super-advanced, half-Cybertronian database in my head, but I tried to let it go. It wasn’t worth making things awkward with Bee to keep worrying about it. And then today, I was with Miles, and he mentioned, in passing, the stupidest thing, about when I jokingly told him that my only true love could ever be my car. I said it yesterday, before Barricade ever entered the picture, I said it sarcastically for God’s sake, but then today, he looked at me and said that wow, I really hadn’t been joking, and _what the hell, Mikaela?_ ” He stopped, exhausted, hands at his sides and staring at her with an expression that was so lost she wanted to cry for him. Instead, she stood and wrapped him in a hug.

“It’s okay, Sam, of course your confused. You have every right to be, this got thrown at you way too quickly.” She rubbed his back soothingly for a second before he pulled away.

“Why aren’t you more upset?” he asked miserably. “We broke up, like, two months ago, and God knows I’m still not completely over you.”

She smiled a little, better now at ignoring the tiny stabs of pain in her heart. “Do you want my real, totally honest, nothing held back answer? You might not like it.”

He nodded slowly, unsurely. “Tell me.”

“Because you were in love with Bumblebee long before you were ever in love with me. And I saw it then, just as I see it now. The difference is that back then, you were still destined for a human life, a human relationship.” Her tone turned only the slightest bit bitter. “And now you’re not.”

“’Kaela…”

“No, don’t apologize.” Her eyes were getting misty, and damn it, she hated acting like such a girl. “I didn’t say it to make you feel bad, I only said the truth. We would have been awesome together, before all this happened. But you were right to break things off, it would only hurt both of us eventually, and I know that. Your life has gone beyond a simple human relationship, Sam, and your future now can lie with the other person you love.”

“But I don’t…I didn’t…”

“You weren’t ready to acknowledge it back then. That doesn’t mean you didn’t feel it.” The lost, wounded puppy expression hadn’t left his face, and she reached out a hand to take his, noticing that it was ice cold to the touch. “Sam, do you remember those first days? When we first met Optimus Prime and the rest, and we were running from Sector Seven?”

“Of course I do, not something I’m likely to forget,” he said, bitterly remembering the whole ordeal.

“Do you remember underneath the bridge, when Bumblebee first caught us, and then the agents took him down with their insane weapons?”

He shivered and nodded. “Yeah…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you remember what you were feeling when they took Bumblebee away, when they shoved you into the car and you didn’t know what was going to happen to him?”

He’d taken it for overwhelming friendship. He’d shoved a government agent to the ground, had wanted to _kill_ all of them for hurting Bee. The devastation of failing had been so intense… God, he’s been so blind.

“And then later,” Mikaela continued. “We were in Mission City, and Bee handed you the Allspark. You wouldn’t leave him.”

“I remember…” Mikaela had been the one to save Bee, and she’d done it for him, he could see now. Because losing Bee after all that might have destroyed him. He dropped heavily, simply collapsing to his knees to the ground, eyes unfocused as they remembered everything about that insane day. As he remembered every feeling, every wild thought that passed through his mind as he tried everything he could to protect his friend.

His protector.

His Bee.

“Oh, God,” he whispered, and then Mikaela was on her knees in front of him, wrapping him in a tight hug, telling him quietly that it would be okay, that she would do everything she could to help him deal with this.

“It’s okay, Sam, I promise.”

“Oh God, Mikaela, I’m an _idiot_.” He was physically shaking, tremors wracking his body, his weak human body, and he couldn’t seem to _stop_ , and it was the first time he had ever actively wished he had a reason to transform. “I’m so sorry…” She shouldn’t have to deal with this, shouldn’t have to deal with him, and she knew this was hurting her, it had to be, because a small part of him was dying inside at the thought of losing her forever. But another part, a part steadily growing larger and stronger, was feeling _right_ for the first time in what felt like his whole life.

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She pulled back, cupped a hand over his cheek. “I’ll be okay. We’ll both be okay. All right?”

The shaking had subsided, just a little, so he allowed himself to nod hesitantly.

“I’ve kept you a very long time,” she said. “Bee’s going to be worried if you don’t get back out there.”

“What are the chances he hasn’t been listening to everything going on?” Sam said with a resigned sigh as he pulled himself back to his feet, his movements still not quite steady.

“I made him promise not to.”

Sam froze, stared. “He…You…”

“He doesn’t know anything that’s been said in this room, only that I wanted to make sure you were all right, and it was something you wouldn’t be able to discuss with him so close. So he promised, as long as I promised to make sure you were all right.” She appraised him silently. “He’s not going to like the shaking. You want another second to steady yourself?”

“No…no, I should be -”

**Hybrid.**

“- fine.” Sam sighed. “Can’t catch a break at all today, can I? It’s Barricade.” **Have you made a decision yet?**

**I have deemed the Autobots’ condition to be acceptable. When would they like to meet to discuss it further?**

Sam was ridiculously grateful for the growling voice in his head, as it did more to steady him than anything else could have. **I’ll let them know what you said, and get back to you when they’ve discussed an appropriate time and place to meet with you.**

**Do not try my patience for long, hybrid.**

Sam grinned at Mikaela. “He agreed.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while,” she said, letting out a long sigh. “Now get out of here before Bee comes in to destroy me for kidnapping you. You’ll want to let him and the others know what’s going on anyway, and to tell Optimus about Chromia.”

“Will you be there tonight?” Sam asked as he reached the front door.

“If you want me to be,” Mikaela replied, her voice even.

He turned to look at her. “No matter what, you’re a part of this team. And you will always, _always_ mean the world to me, friend or otherwise.”

“Then I’ll be there,” she said with her own special smile.

He nodded and turned to leave again, then spun back once more as she grabbed his hand. “Sam, no matter what, I can’t ever regret it. Getting in that car with you. I never will.”

He smiled back, squeezed her hand once in response, and was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

“Are you all right, Sam?” Bee asked as they sped toward the overlook.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I think so.” A pause. “Maybe. It’s not really something I want to talk about right now, okay buddy?”

“Of course.” It was said softly, but Sam thought he could detect an undercurrent of hurt, and it made him want to kick himself.

“Can we talk about it later, Bee? When things aren’t so crazy?”

“Yes, Sam, of course.” The hurt tone was lesser now, and Sam relaxed back in the seat with a sigh as the radio switched on and began playing a song he wasn’t familiar with. The volume was set very low, and he had to struggle to make out the lyrics. “ _I want to tell you/My head is filled with things to say/When you're here/All those words they seem to slip away…_ ”

Sam swallowed, the song uncomfortably close to how he was feeling, but stayed silent.

It was nearing sunset when they reached the overlook, the sky just beginning to change to orange and dusky pink. Optimus was waiting, staring out at the vastness below them, obviously deep in thought, though he turned immediately as they pulled up. “Your transmission said only that you had news,” he said, nodding a greeting to Sam as he climbed out of the Camaro.

“Yes. Well, two things actually.” Sam waited as Bumblebee transformed before continuing. “The first is that Barricade agreed to your terms, and is just waiting now on a time and place to meet with you. The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned. For now, I’m still acting as messenger between you and him, as he refuses to contact you directly until he has no other choice.”

“Then tell him to meet us here, tomorrow evening. As you said, the sooner the better, and I suspect we already have plans tonight?”

“How did you…” Sam shook his head, perplexed. “Never mind. I don’t need to know. I’m not even that surprised.”

Bee broke in with an amused glance at Sam. “Sir, it appears that a close friend of Sam has been in the care of an Autobot for the last several weeks,” he supplied.

“I suspected as much, and yes, Sam, I have my reasons for saying nothing at the time. Who is it Bumblebee, do you know?”

“Do we get to surprise you after all, sir?” Amusement was clearly in Bee’s tone now, and Sam wondered if the yellow ‘bot would ever have been willing to joke like that with the Autobot leader before coming to Earth.

“Bumblebee,” Optimus said, a warning tone coloring his own voice. Sam thought that gave him his answer.

“Chromia,” the yellow ‘bot replied.

A dozen emotions flitted over the imposing robotic face, emotions Sam didn’t even think he could put names to, before Optimus finally said, “Are you sure?”

“That is the name the boy gave us, and according to him, his car is the one who supplied it to him. What would be the point of an Autobot lying about their name? What I do not understand is why she hasn’t contacted you before now.”

“There could be dozens of reasons,” Optimus said, his voice tired now. “Am I correct in assuming you have not yet informed Ironhide of this development?”

“No, sir. I thought it best to wait until we had first told you, and until we knew for sure what the situation was.”

“That was probably wise. He and Captain Lennox are currently residing in a hotel close by. I will contact him tonight, once Chromia and Sam’s friend have arrived and we have had time to find out what we can from her. I will have Ratchet on hand in case she requires medical care.”

Sam looked back and forth between the two, confused. “Why would it be such a big deal to Ironhide?” he asked.

“Do you remember when Mikaela asked about relationships on Cybertron?” Bee let the implication stand until Sam put two and two together.

It didn’t take long, and Sam’s eyes widened. “Ironhide and this Chromia chick were _together?_ Wow…that’s…not something I would have imagined.”

“They had a bond deeper than most of the few bonds I have seen on Cybertron. Losing her…thinking he lost her…almost destroyed him.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “You must understand, Sam. It is not just that they were together. They spark-bound themselves to each other…something I know you do not understand, but it is very serious, and not something done lightly. When I say that thinking her dead almost destroyed him, that is not an exaggeration. In fact, it can barely adequately describe how it was for him.”

Sam nodded. “I understand, it’s a big deal.”

“The rest should be Ironhide’s to tell if he desires, later,” Optimus said firmly. “I feel we’ve delved into his personal life far too much. Sam, when will your friend arrive?”

“I told him to come after dark.” A quick glance at the sky confirmed that dark would only be, at most, two hours away. “He won’t take long…he wants answers.”

“And what answers are you prepared to give?” Bumblebee asked shrewdly.

Sam took a deep breath. “Whatever ones he wants. I won’t keep him in the dark after tonight. But I won’t allow him to become involved any more than necessary, either. He _definitely_ won’t be fighting with us, when the time comes.” He shuddered at the thought. Miles couldn’t handle a bully fight at school, let alone all out war.

“A wise choice,” Optimus said with a nod. “Mikaela, I assume, will be?”

“As though she’d allow us to leave her behind,” Sam said with a sigh. “She’ll be there if she has any choice in the matter at all, and I’ll worry about her the entire time, I’m sure.”

“She is strong, and capable. I’m sure when the time comes, she will handle herself with a finesse few Autobots will be able to match.”

Optimus’ words did reassure Sam a little, but he still wished there was some way he could keep Mikaela away from the fight that was coming. Still, that was a worry for later, and right now he had more than enough other ones on his mind. He glanced again at the sky. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m going to take some time to myself. I have…stuff I need to think through. Alone.” He shot an apologetic glanced at his best friend. “I’ll be back before dark.”

Bee looked worried. “You don’t have another mode of transportation besides me, and wandering around the forest here is perhaps not the wisest decision, Sam.”

With a self-deprecating smile, Sam began shrugging out of his clothes. “No need to worry, Bee, I’ve got another way to get around. As long as I keep off the main roads, I’ll be fine.”

“Sam…”

Sam wasn’t sure if it was pain for himself, or pain for Sam in his voice, but he smiled reassuringly as he felt his body shift. “I’ll be fine Bee, promise. And back before you even realize I’m gone.” His voice shifted halfway through the sentence, becoming more mechanical, and he was grateful because emotions didn’t leak through quite as much as when he used his human voice. **I have to do this, Bee.**

 **I know.** Resigned, now. **Please be careful.**

As before, the second change was easier, and more forceful. The power exploded, and his metallic limbs folded together, changed and altered to become his alternate form, the motorcycle Barricade had told him was built for speed. Speed was exactly what he needed right now.

His engine revved, and he spun around, dirt flying from under his tires. He did not cast a parting glance at either of the Autobots as he raced from the clearing, and might have imagined Bumblebee’s voice in his head whispering, ‘ _beautiful_ ’. All he was, all he _knew_ , was the power and the speed of the machine he had become, and it was _fantastic._

He whipped between and around trees faster than he could normally blink, dodged fallen logs as though they were toothpicks, and when he finally broke free of the forest, even managed a full-on wheelie, something he _never_ could have done as a human _riding_ a motorcycle. _This is freaking **awesome!**_ he thought elatedly.

He felt free, for the first time since he had gone to see Ratchet with muscle pain in his arm, and he embraced it, clutched it to him as he pushed to go even faster.

He drove the side streets and alleyways of the outskirts of Tranquility, dodging out of sight of any traffic he saw, turning down new roads to avoid the wandering eyes of the few pedestrians. He kept to the outskirts, where there was really only road, no businesses, and few houses, and when he did manage to venture a little further, he found himself in an old warehouse that didn’t look familiar until he heard his own voice run through his memory… _We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!…_ The alarming sound of glass shattering as they rammed through the windows… It was the warehouse Barricade’s insane chase had brought them to, back when life had mostly still made sense and was only just starting to get weird.

It was the perfect place to escape to.

He nudged past some broken rubble and made his way inside. The setting sun cast harshly bright rays through the remaining windows as he transformed, only back to Autobot, not to human. The freedom had been exhilarating, but he still needed to get comfortable in this new ‘skin’.

He walked around the building once, scanners checking thoroughly for any lurking intruders before, satisfied, he sat down in the center of the floor and closed his eyes. _Meditation was probably the best damn thing I ever learned in my life_ , he thought.

He had come here to escape the conflicting, confusing thoughts swirling through his head, but realized that now was the perfect time to confront them, alone and away from his guardian, _really_ away, for the first time since…

God, since he was taken captive by Sector Seven. No wonder Bee had looked so upset. Sam felt a fresh twinge of guilt spike through him that he squashed. He really had needed to get away, for however short a time, to really think about what he was going to do.

After his conversation with Mikaela, it was clear to Sam that he did indeed have feelings for Bee…deep, intense feelings…and ones that he’d had for some time now. Ones that he thought he might have for the rest of his life.

But he was human enough that those feelings scared him…that, despite everything, felt…unnatural. Or…that his mind thought _should_ feel unnatural. He was human enough that he could not picture how a relationship with a sixteen-foot-tall robot (and geez, Bee was _small_ compared to most of his race!) could work. He still equated a relationship with kissing and sex, dates to the movies and meeting the parents, and, eventually, marriage, and clearly _that_ would not be the case here.

But, as Mikaela had said, he was no longer destined for a human relationship, _couldn’t_ be destined for one, because there was no way he could deal with that. Watching the person he loved grow old, and eventually die, and he would be stuck with nothing. It would never be fair, to him or to the other person.

But…he was still human, at least partly. And whatever was happening with him and Bee still scared him.

But… He loved the Autobot, and there was no getting around that. He loved Bee with the largest part of his heart, and the spark only served to intensify that feeling. He couldn’t just do _nothing_. At the very least, he could come clean to him. Bee deserved his honesty. They would go from there, and let whatever was meant to happen, happen.

Resolved, feeling lighter than he had in days, Sam stood and transformed. The sun was below the horizon and it would be full dark soon, and he still had one last stop to make.

It was harder to stay out of sight as he got further into town, but there were enough shadows and alleys to keep to, and his engine was thankfully quieter than most motorcycles he’d seen. He made it to his destination without incident and beeped his horn twice, inwardly grinning at the imagined reaction.

Mikaela stepped out of her house, back turned to him as she locked the door. She was rummaging through her purse as she turned and descended the steps, but when she looked up, there was no mistaking the confusion in her eyes when it was not Bumblebee parked at the curb. “Well? You coming or what?” Sam asked, the voice coming through a set of speakers. “I’m not waiting forever.”

Her eyes widened comically, and her steps faltered. “ _Sam?_ ”

“In the flesh…erm, so to speak. Get on, I hate having to dodge people who think a motorcycle with no driver riding around is weird.”

Laughing, she swung a leg over and settled herself onto the seat. Sam marveled at how _not_ weird it felt. “God, Sam, this is so _cool!_ ”

“Figured you’d think so. Hold on.” That was the only warning he gave before revving his engine and peeling out at reckless speeds onto the streets of Tranquility.

Mikaela threw her head back and laughed, enjoying the wind whipping around her, not even remotely fearful at the thought of the normally dangerous speeds they were traveling at. They didn’t slow as he reached the path leading to the outlook, and though her heartbeat sped up as they whipped around trees and bushes that were little more than blurs of color, she never asked him to take it down a notch, only gripped the handlebars more tightly.

They only slowed, and eventually stopped, when the clearing was in sight. “Okay?” Sam asked as her breathing began to slow.

“That was _excellent!_ ” she laughed, then was quiet for a moment, letting her heartbeat return to normal. “Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.

“Someday, people won’t need to keep asking me that,” he sighed. “And yes, I’m okay. I’m good, even. I needed some time alone to work stuff out, but I’m better now.”

“I’m glad.” She slid off, ran a hand over the handlebar. “I’ll wait here. Assuming, of course, you want to get dressed?”

He was glad he couldn’t blush in this form. “Thanks, ‘Kaela.”

The scene at the overlook hadn’t changed at all. Bee and Optimus still stood in the same spots as when he had left, conversing quietly with each other. They both looked up as he pulled up to them, stopping and transforming almost simultaneously. _I’m definitely getting faster_ , he thought as metal lightened and melted into tanned skin.

“Sam,” Bumblebee said, relief obvious in his voice. “I trust your time away did you some good?”

Pulling his shirt on, Sam nodded. “Thanks for understanding.” **We’ll talk later, Bee. Tonight. I promise.** _I love you. I don’t know how or why, but I love you._ Now that he’d acknowledged it, it filled him. He could no more have denied loving Bee than he could have denied himself air to breathe. It was powerful, and it scared him, but there could be no more running from it.

 **It is a conversation I look forward to.** Aloud, Bee said, “I was going to ask if you’d like me to pick up Mikaela, but my sensors are picking up that she’s already here.”

“I figured I’d save time and pick her up on my way back,” Sam replied, then called to her, “I’m good, ‘Kaela!”

She walked into the clearing, nodding a hello to the two Autobots and grinning at Sam. “We so need to do that again,” she said, then asked, more soberly, “So when is Miles coming?”

“He is approaching the fork in the path now,” Optimus said. “Maintaining his current speed, he will be here in approximately four-point-thirteen minutes. Ratchet will be here in thirty-two seconds.”

Indeed, even as Optimus spoke, Sam could hear the rescue vehicle’s approach and see the flashing lights. “Did you tell him what was going on?”

“Yes, we briefed him while you were away,” Optimus replied.

A few seconds later, Ratchet pulled into the clearing. He made to transform, but was stopped by Optimus and Bumblebee.

“Sam’s friend is almost here, and it might be better if we ease him into this,” Bumblebee said, even as he folded himself into Camaro form. Optimus followed suit, and soon a flame-painted big rig was sitting in the clearing with them.

Mikaela glanced from the three very different vehicles, to Sam, and back again, before finally settling on Sam. “Nope, this doesn’t look suspicious _at all_ ,” she stage-whispered. “Miles won’t be the least bit apprehensive, I’m sure.”

Sam snorted a laugh, agreeing with her. His friend could be a little dense, sometimes, but he wasn’t an idiot. He’d no sooner opened his mouth to reply, then the object of their conversation pulled carefully into the clearing. In the front seat, Sam could see Miles looking around, completely baffled. As he parked and stepped out, Sam walked over to him. “Hey, Miles. Glad you’re here.”

“Dude…what’s up with the circus of cars?” the blond asked tentatively.

“Yeah, well…about that…”

“And what’s your ex-girlfriend doing here?” His voice was rising now as he took it all in.

“She’s a friend, like I said before,” Sam replied, exasperated.

“Hi Miles,” Mikaela said, walking over. Sam noticed she was surreptitiously studying the car they were leaning against.

Miles glanced back and forth between the two before finally mumbling, “Mikaela,” which was as close to a greeting as he would probably get. She gave him a little smirk, and Sam was struck that his two closest human friends would probably never really get along. He sighed.

“So anyway…” he said, kneeling down a little in front of the powder blue El Camino. “Chromia?” he said softly. Miles stared. The car shuddered, just a little, just enough for Sam with his enhanced vision to notice. “Chromia, were you injured coming to Earth? Is that why you haven’t been able to communicate with the others, or transform?”

A long, strained silence, before finally… “Yes…” It was barely a whisper, a soft feminine voice that he was, for a second, sure he imagined. “Had…enough time to find…suitable alternate form. Then…all darkness for days.”

“And when you woke up, you were on a used car lot, and my friend was on his way to purchase you,” Sam said, shaking his head. It really _had_ been a coincidence, then. How strange.

“Who… _are_ you?”

He ran a hand over the hood. “My name is Sam Witwicky. I don’t know how aware you are of your surroundings right now, but I’m here with a close human friend of mine, as well as Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Optimus Prime.”

Another small shudder. “Optimus…here? Not…Ironhide?”

“No, he’s not here yet. We’re going to call him here when we get you fixed up. I need you to be patient, though…I have to explain things to Miles.”

“All right…”

Sam stood up straight again and faced his friend. “Well, you were right. Your car is definitely alive.”

Miles looked faint. “I really thought I was imagining things. You sure this isn’t some weird dream, dude?”

“Positive. You’re about to get a few big shocks tonight.” Sam motioned for Bumblebee, and the Camaro revved its engine a little and crossed the distance to them. Miles swallowed. “Miles, this is my friend Bumblebee. He’s not really a car, and I’m going to have him show you what he _really_ is, but I don’t want you to freak out, okay?”

A slow nod was his only answer, and Sam figured it would have to be enough. “Go ahead, Bee,” he said, and watched as his friend unfolded into the Autobot he was, smiling in appreciation as he kept the transformation as low-key as possible so as not to startle the other boy. He transformed slowly, and when he was finished, stayed silent, blue optics glowing in the darkness.

“You okay dude?” Sam asked, worriedly glancing at his friend, whose eyes were wide and unblinking.

“Your car…just…it… _giant robot_ …what the f-”

“Calm down,” Sam ordered, gripping Miles’ arm tightly to force him to look at him. “Bee is an Autobot…a race of _sentient_ non-biological beings from a destroyed planet called Cybertron. He _looks_ like a robot, and he is in a way, but he’s a living being, with thoughts and feelings, just like us. And…he can transform into a super cool car to blend in.”

Miles gaped.

“And it’s not just Bumblebee. The rescue vehicle is Ratchet, he’s their medic. And the truck is Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots.”

“Perhaps, Sam, you should let him digest what information you’ve given him before continuing?” Bee suggested, gently.

“No…” Miles said, finally blinking once, slowly. “No, I think I’m cool. I mean, I told you my car was alive, right? Just seeing it actually true….just…sorta a shock, dude. I’m good…I think…”

Sam looked at him doubtfully. “You sure? I can stop for a minute.”

“No…tell me what they’re here for. Not to take over, right?”

Sam laughed. “No, not to take over. They came here looking for something, an object they couldn’t let fall into the wrong hands…their enemies, the other beings on Cybertron, were the Decepticons. They’re almost all evil, power-hungry thugs. They’ve been at war with each other for…a long time. The cube…what they were looking for…was here, and it led _them_ here.”

The pieces clicked. “Mission City…”

“Wasn’t a government experiment gone wrong. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before, Miles.”

“S’okay. So Chromia…”

“Is also an Autobot. And she’s hurt, which is why I didn’t know sooner…why I couldn’t tell you sooner.” Sam gave him an apologetic look.

“Why _you_ , man?”

Sam sighed. “I just sort of got thrown into the situation. My great-great grandfather discovered the leader of the Decepticons in the ice of the Arctic Circle…it’s what made him end up in the asylum. Bumblebee was sent to protect me, and things just sort of escalated from there when the government got involved. After it was over, Bee chose to stay with me, and the rest are friends.”

Miles glanced at Mikaela. “And you were with Sam for all this?”

“By accident,” she replied. “I got dragged in before I realized what was happening. I never regretted it though.”

Miles nodded, shot a fearful look at Bumblebee, who was still motionless. “Umm…nice to meet you?”

Bee inclined his head. “And you as well, Miles.”

Sam smiled at Miles, then up at Bee as he reached over and ran a hand over the metal plate of his leg in thanks.

“Sam?” Miles asked, and he looked back over. Miles eyes were wide again. “Dude…what I said before…in study hall…”

Sam swallowed. No, his friend certainly wasn’t an idiot. “Later, Miles. That one can wait till later.” He looked over at the other two ‘bots. “You guys are okay, now,” he called. “Ratchet, I think Chromia needs some serious medical attention.”

Sam led the other two humans back, away from the car that Ratchet was swiftly bending to exam, having transformed as quickly as possible when Sam gave the all clear. “We’ll let him work, she’ll be okay in no time,” he said.

Optimus came over and knelt in front of them, focusing his gaze on Miles. “It is always a pleasure to meet a friend of Sam’s,” he said in his deep, booming voice. Miles stayed steady, but it was a close thing. “I trust I do not need to warn you of the consequences if knowledge of us should reach the wrong people?”

“No…course I won’t say anything,” Miles said, clearly shocked at even the idea of it.

Optimus nodded and stood. “You have my thanks,” he said somberly, and walked away to join Ratchet and Bee, who were working furiously over Chromia.

“Sorry,” Sam said softly. “He’s a little intense, but he worries. He’s been fighting this war a long time, and paranoia’s sort of ingrained now, I think.”

“S’all good,” Miles assured him. “So…now that you can talk about it…what happened to your eye, anyway? Is it really bad? It must’ve happened in Mission City, right?”

Mikaela quietly took a step back. “I’m going to go over and see what they’re doing, see if they need any help or something,” she said softly.

Miles watched her walk away, then looked at Sam again, alarmed. “Is it really that bad?”

Sam stood staring after Mikaela for a second, gathering his thoughts. “There’s nothing wrong with my eye,” he finally said. “It works perfectly fine, it just….might startle people, if they saw it.” He turned back to his friend. “Miles…the object I mentioned, the one the Autobots were trying to recover… I had to destroy it, to save…well, everyone. It…was sentient too, not like the ‘bots, but…enough to know what was happening to it.” He took a breath, released it. “It…was a very powerful object, Miles…powerful enough to build planets and give life to machines.”

Miles’ voice was just above a whisper. “What did it do to you?”

Sam swallowed. “It changed me…made me partly like them.” He nodded to where the Autobots were clustered. “I’m not…entirely human, anymore, Miles. I’m…part Autobot.” It was almost harder, somehow, telling Miles, harder than it had been telling his parents. His parents, while they should have been by all rights horrified, would always love him in one way or another. He was their son, related by blood. Miles could walk away and never look back, and Sam would lose his oldest friend in the blink of an eye.

“Not…human?” Miles asked, trying desperately to grasp what Sam was telling him.

Sam closed his eyes, reached up and removed the eye patch. When he opened them again, Miles jumped, startled. “No…not entirely. Not anymore,” Sam said quietly. He let his arm transform, held it up as it did so.

“You can do what they do,” Miles whispered. “ _God_ , Sam.”

The arm melted back to skin, and he hastily re-secured the patch. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before… I…didn’t know how.” He sat down on the dry grass, and Miles sank down beside him. “It happened at the beginning of summer. I was _freaked_ , dude. I felt like I had lost _everything_. And I didn’t know what I was going to become, but I knew it wasn’t _me_ anymore. It took a long time to get past everything.” He sighed a little. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I know you have to be freaked.”

“ _Don’t_ tell me how I’m feeling!” Miles growled, and Sam’s eyes widened at the very uncharacteristic outburst. “I’m freaked, yeah, and I’m _pissed_ you didn’t tell me, but I sorta get that, ‘cause duh, it’s not like I had any clue what was up. But _don’t_ you go being all ‘understanding’ if I want to leave you and this friendship in the dust. I _wouldn’t_ , and you should know me better, man. _You_ were the one who left me in the dust, months ago when you kicked me out of the car so you could go drive Mikaela home, and _all summer_ when all this crazy stuff was happening to you. _You_ left _me_ behind, so you don’t get to say that _I_ would ever do that.”

“Miles…”

“Just shut up for a minute,” the blonde said, voice still angry as he stared sullenly at the ground. “You’re my best friend, Sam. I’m an outcast who never _had_ a lot of friends, but you stuck by me no matter what, and that meant something. _Means_ something. It sucked when I thought you were gone for good. You had your hot girlfriend, your hot car, and everything was great for you. And I got over that, and I forgave you, because that’s what friends do. But now I find out that it wasn’t even all that keeping you away all summer. It was you being scared because all this crazy stuff was happening to you, and you were too afraid to call someone who’s been your friend for, like, ever.”

“So…you’re not angry at me because I’m changed now…you’re mad because I wouldn’t let you in to help me deal with it?” Sam asked, bewildered.

“ _Duh_.”

Sam laughed, the sound so carefree and relieved as it carried through the clearing that Bumblebee and Mikaela looked over in surprise. “Miles…you are the coolest guy anyone could have for a friend ever. And I promise, I won’t keep you out of the loop anymore, okay?”

“Good,” Miles said with a firm nod. His anger melted, and he slanted a glance over at Sam. “So…you wanna tell me about it?”

And Sam told him everything about those long weeks, about how he had been feeling, and the things he learned about his new body as time went on. He told him the reasons for his break-up with Mikaela, and how it still scared him to think of losing all the human friends he cared about. He told him everything, held nothing back, and Miles listened with rapt attention, never judging, simply being the friend Sam had always knew he was, but never truly appreciated till now.

A little while later, a call from Bumblebee brought both the boys to their feet and they walked over to the group. “What’s up?” Sam asked. “Will she be all right?”

“She is in stasis right now, recovering,” Ratchet replied. “Her ability to transform was severely damaged during the flight, and actually _doing_ it when she scanned her alternate form ruptured it entirely, so she was unable to transform back. Her communications system was working for a time, but when she blocked her transmissions so as to avoid detection, the added pressure caused that to break as well. She’s been very weak, but I have managed to repair the worst of it, and the rest will be healed while she is in stasis.” He nodded to Miles. “She asked me to thank you for taking such good care of her.” He turned his gaze to Sam. “She also demanded we send for Ironhide immediately. She should exit stasis in five hours, and wishes for all of us to be here to discuss things with her.”

“That sounds fine with me, but Miles and Mikaela…”

“I wanna stay,” Miles broke in, then glanced at Optimus. “If that’s cool…”

“I’d like to stay, too, Sam.” This from Mikaela. “I’ll be fine, I can sleep while we wait for her to wake up. Why should I have to miss the newest Autobot’s introduction?”

“It is fine with me,” Optimus said with a glance at Sam.

“Fine, then,” Sam agreed with a shrug. “You’re both more than welcome to stay, I just thought that the two humans might actually want some rest. Sorry for caring.”

“You should be.” Miles and Mikaela spoke at the same time, then looked at each other with some surprise before laughing.

Sam grinned. This day had been one of the best he could remember in a long time, and he thought he should enjoy it. Things were going to go downhill fast when the Decepticons showed up, and they would all have to be ready.

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**Song credits:** The Beatles – I Want to Tell You 


	16. Chapter 16

The clearing was very still when Ironhide pulled up with Will in the cab, looking sleepy but alert. Bumblebee was in Camaro form, providing a comfortable place for Mikaela to rest. She was curled up in the backseat, sleeping soundly. Miles and Sam stood a ways away, not talking, just standing at the edge of the overlook as they had done so many times as kids. Miles had been offered a place to sleep as well in the front seat of the Camaro, but he had declined, stating that there was no way he’d be able to sleep after everything. Ratchet and Optimus were stationed close to Chromia, running periodic scans to see how she was doing, but otherwise unmoving. The moon hung high in the sky, providing more than enough light for Sam to see Will’s confused expression quite clearly. He motioned for Miles to follow him and walked over.

“Hey, Will,” he said softly, not wanting to completely break the peaceful quiet while it lasted.

“Sam. What’s going on, has something happened?” the air force captain asked as he jumped out of the cab to allow Ironhide to transform. “Who’s this?” He indicated to Miles.

“This is my friend Miles. Miles, Will Lennox. He’s a captain with the air force, and a good friend as well.”

Miles sketched a wave, too busy staring at the large Autobot that now stood in place of the pickup truck.

“And this is Ironhide, Autobot weapons specialist.” Sam was grinning now in amusement. “Ironhide, thanks for coming so fast.”

Optimus joined them. “Yes, thank you my friend. She was quite adamant that you be here when she was awake again.”

“She?” Ironhide asked gruffly. “She who?” He looked around, noticing the El Camino for the first time. His eyes narrowed. “Another from Cybertron?”

“Her spark is weak right now, but I’m genuinely surprised you do not recognize her energy signature,” Optimus said.

Ironhide stared, now focusing all his sensors on the newcomer. After a moment, his optics brightened, and his body froze rigidly in place. “It can’t be…”

From the spot he was crouched, Ratchet called over, “She is exiting stasis as we speak.”

“Chromia?” Ironhide whispered.

“Yes, my friend.” Optimus said, placing a hand on Ironhide’s shoulder. “She survived the destruction of Cybertron, and found her way here. She has been in the care of Sam’s human friend here for three weeks before we discovered what was going on.”

Ironhide’s gaze swiveled to Miles, who shrank back a little, then focused again on Optimus for a moment, and then back to the nondescript blue car. He seemed unable to speak.

“She is awake,” Ratchet called again. The car beside him shuddered for a moment, and then slowly began to unfold, transforming into a medium-sized Autobot. When the transformation was complete, the newcomer looked directly at Ironhide.

“You came…” she said, happiness coloring her soft voice.

Sam was caught up watching the play of emotions of Ironhide’s face, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Mikaela climb out of Bumblebee and come to stand next to him.

“Chromia…” In a flash, the weapons expert was standing before her, reaching a hand up to her face as though to reassure himself that she was really there, really standing in front of him. When he touched her, blue sparks crackled around his hand, trailing down her face as he stroked his hand down.

“I’m here, Ironhide. I’m not going anywhere, not ever again.” Her face showed emotions more clearly than many of the other Autobots Sam had met, and he saw the love there as clear as day as she smiled and wrapped her arms around the much larger Autobot.

Sam finally turned away, feeling this was a very private moment they had all intruded on, and his gaze found Mikaela’s. She was smiling at him, and good lord, were those tears in her eyes?

“They look so happy,” she whispered. “You can’t help but be happy for them.”

Beside her, Miles nodded in agreement, looking awestruck. Sam noticed that Will simply looked bewildered. “Did Ironhide ever tell you he had someone?”

“No.” Will slowly shook his head. “It never came up. God, I’ve never seen him look so _happy_ before.”

Sam looked back to where the two ‘bots still stood holding each other tightly. Blue sparks, like jolts of electricity, danced brightly around them. “Bee told me they were spark-bound, but I don’t really know what that means.”

Optimus, who had been silently observing the reunion, knelt down and spoke quietly. “A spark-binding, for those on Cybertron, is a bit like a human marriage ceremony, in which the two commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. It is done in privacy, however, without any sort of audience, and the bond, once formed, cannot be broken. It is like binding two souls together. Spark energy from each participant is given to the other, and from that point on they are inseparable. It is exceedingly rare to find two sparks compatible enough to perform the bond.”

“He never said anything…” Will said.

“Ironhide is a soldier not much for talking about painful parts of his past. When he thought Chromia had died, it was like losing a significant part of himself. It…was not an easy time for him.”

“He can also hear every word you’re saying,” the soldier in question grumbled, though not angrily, as he pulled reluctantly away from Chromia. She laughed, a breezy sound that Sam instantly liked, but the laugh was cut short as she suddenly stood rigid, darting a glance toward the entrance of the clearing.

“Someone is approaching,” she said in her soft voice. She looked to Optimus. “All of the Autobots currently on earth are here in this clearing, are they not?”

“Yes.”

“Wait…” Sam said. **Barricade, is that you approaching?**

**Yes, Hybrid. I’d appreciate not getting shot at, if it’s all the same to you.**

**You’d better have a damn good reason for this.** Sam ended the transmission abruptly, angrily. “It’s no threat, it’s just Barricade. As Decepticons go, there are ones you should worry about a lot more than him.”

“How can you tell, if we cannot?” Chromia asked, raising a metal eyebrow at him. “And what do you mean, he’s no threat? Decepticons are to be annihilated, as quickly as possible! Or have I been gone so long that the war has ended without me?”

“There are a lot of things going on you don’t understand yet,” Ironhide said gently. “Sam is one of them. Barricade is another. Be on your guard, but don’t attack. I’ll explain later.”

“You trust a Decepticon?” she asked, flabbergasted.

Sam snorted. “Hardly. But he needs us, and he’s useful. Sometimes.” He glanced at Miles, who was starting to look a little shell-shocked again. “I’d really prefer you weren’t here right now, but there’s no getting around it at this point. Barricade isn’t fond of humans, but stay close to Bumblebee and he’ll ignore you. Mikaela -”

“He can deal with me,” she said firmly, and he wasn’t surprised.

“Fine. Just watch your back.”

Miles glanced between Bumblebee and Chromia, and with an apologetic glance to the yellow ‘bot and to Sam, went to stand by Chromia. With a small smile for her charge, she took a step in front of him, effectively blocking him from sight of the entrance Barricade was rapidly approaching. Will also walked over to the pair, and stood on Ironhide’s other side, in full military stance.

Seconds later, the dark Saleen Mustang charged into the clearing, sending up a wave of dirt and grass as it spun around and braked hard, transforming almost in the same instant to become the Decepticon Sam was rapidly beginning to hate on a purely personal level.

“Barricade. You’d better have a reason for being here,” Sam said, his voice like ice. He noticed Bumblebee come closer, standing next to him and Mikaela.

The Decepticon took in the scene with an appraising eye, and a malicious sneer overcame his features as he took in Ironhide and Chromia. “How touching. An Autobot returns to the fold.”

Chromia tensed, her arm spinning and whirring as it became a rather large gun. Ironhide lifted a hand to calm her, but Barricade simply laughed and turned back to Sam. “I merely came to warn you.”

Optimus stood to his full height. “Are the Decepticons striking earlier than planned?” he asked, coming closer.

Barricade glanced at him with a sardonic look. “I said I came to warn young _Samuel_. If it were a Decepticon attack, I would have of course brought the news straight to you, oh fearless leader. And I would have transmitted it to avoid looking at you. I did not realize Sam had a…playdate tonight.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “If you weren’t tracking the Autobots, then how did you know where I was?”

“You stupid, brainless hybrid. Really, is the whole human race comprised of dim-witted idiots? _Insects._ ”

“You’ve been tracking me since you let me go.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of _course_ I have! And don’t tell me you’re honestly _surprised_ , have you learned _nothing_ of your enemies?”

Bumblebee was tensed, crouched and ready to attack at the slightest signal from Sam or Optimus. “You will stop. _Now_.”

Barricade shot a long smirk at Sam, who flushed under the knowing gaze. Finally, the Decepticon looked back to the yellow ‘bot. “If I intended him harm, he’d be dead already. What more could you want?” His piercing red gaze swiveled to Optimus. “I’ve already agreed to your ridiculous demands. ‘Freedom is the right of all sentient beings’…yet clearly that does not apply to me, does it Prime?” His voice was a growl, low and menacing.

“You have your freedom,” the Autobot leader said gravely. “You will simply be unable to use it to harm the Autobots or humans in any way.”

Barricade _did_ growl now, crimson eyes flashing brightly in the darkness of the night. “Freedom does not have limitations!”

“Yours does. Do you want the help and protection of the Autobots or not?”

“Really, Barricade, this is your fault,” Sam said, enjoying himself despite the dangerous line he knew he was treading. “They never would have thought of implanting a virus if you hadn’t done it to me first. So, really, this is sorta like karma.”

“I should crush you like a bug, you worthless cretin!”

Bumblebee _would_ have attacked then, if Sam hadn’t reached up a hand to tell him to stop. “Don’t, Bee, he’s not worth it. Barricade, you agreed to the terms. Are you backing out now or not?”

After a long moment of silence, the Decepticon finally ground out, “No.”

“Good. Now what did you need to warn me about that was so important?”

Barricade and Sam glared at each other for a long moment, but it was the Decepticon who finally looked away and said in a bored voice, “I thought I should inform you that one of the humans you go to school with has been prowling around your property for the last two hours. He seemed to be looking for a way in when I last saw him.”

“One of…” Sam started, confused, before his eyes widened and he looked at Mikaela. “Trent. Has to be.”

“But aren’t your parents home?” she asked.

“No,” Sam replied, shaking his head. “They’re visiting a friend of the family’s for the next few days, they left early yesterday. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, I think Mom just wanted to give me some space for a few days. The only one home right now is Mojo, for whatever _that’s_ worth.”

“I don’t like this,” Mikaela said, anxiety creeping into her voice. “Trent’s done some stupid things, but this isn’t like him. Sam, is there anything at your house that he shouldn’t find? Anything at all related to the Autobots?”

His fist clenched. “Yes. One thing, and he wouldn’t know what it was if he saw it, but… It’s hidden, it would take a lot of work for him to find it. I need to go, see if he’s still there, see just what the _hell_ is going on with him. And make sure he hasn’t found anything.”

Optimus spoke, now in full leader mode. “Bumblebee, you will accompany Sam to his house. Use caution, and protect him if necessary, but do not act unless there is absolute need.”

“Of course, sir,” the ‘bot said, quickly transforming to his Camaro form.

“Barricade, if it is amenable to you, you will remain here and I will begin the process of uploading the new data. Since you are here, it seems pointless to wait until tomorrow as we had planned.”

The Decepticon glowered but nodded once, tightly.

“Ratchet, I will need your assistance as well, to make sure I am not causing him any harm as we attempt to break the firewall.” Optimus turned to the others. “Chromia, it is imperative that Miles and Mikaela make it to their school on time. If the Decepticons are watching, and they notice a change in Sam’s usual patterns, or in those of his friends, it could make them suspicious. If Sam has not returned in time, will you make sure they get there?”

“Yes, Optimus,” she replied, shooting another slightly confused glance at Sam, still wondering what was so special about him.

 **Thank you,** he transmitted quietly, and had the brief pleasure of watching her optics flare in surprise as he climbed into the Camaro. He waved to his friends, hoping to reassure them that he – and they – would be fine. “Let’s go, Bee,” he said, not waiting to hear any other instructions Optimus handed out, if there were any.

The engine revved and the car took off like a shot, quickly leaving the large group of humans and Cybertronians behind.

They rode mostly in silence, not even the radio being used as a communication device. Sam was stressed and worried, and whatever was going on in Bee’s mind he obviously wanted to keep to himself. It wasn’t until they were turning the corner into Sam’s neighborhood that he slammed on the brakes.

“Sorry, Bee,” he said apologetically as the car skid a few feet. He took off his eye patch so he could better focus. Down at the end of the long street, he could make out a black SUV. A better look with his Cybertronian vision confirmed tinted windows and some high-tech gear that looked suspiciously familiar. “We need to find another way through,” he said quietly. “That’s a Sector Seven vehicle.”

Be shuddered around him. “Sector Seven was supposed to be disbanded, were they not?” the ‘bot asked.

“That’s what Secretary Keller told us. My guess is they’re working outside the government now. Bee, this isn’t good. Trent breaking into my house and now S-7 agents being here means they’re working together. I just don’t get how.”

 

Bee was thoughtful, processing all of the data to come up with the most logical explanation. “If Trent made a phone call, disclosing any of the details of your encounter, it is possible Sector Seven intercepted the call and confronted him. They would have become very curious about the human boy – whom they’d never liked, and whom they knew had been in the company of Cybertronians for some time – who was suddenly developing very alien aspects.”

“They’re using Trent to gather information about me,” Sam clarified. “It makes sense. _Damn it_.” He sighed. “Trent won’t recognize the object I have hidden, but if he finds it, those agents definitely will. And it won’t help matters, at all.”

“What is it that was so important you hid it?” Bee asked, genuinely curious.

Sam was quiet for a moment, clenching his fist in frustration. “It’s one of two intact pieces of the Allspark, the one that Optimus doesn’t know about.”

88888

Mikaela had not backed away from Barricade after Sam and Bee had left, and Optimus, though he was off to the side speaking with Ratchet, was watching the situation very carefully, but Barricade never made a move to hurt her.

“So why are you making such a big deal out of this virus thing anyway?” she asked.

Barricade fixed crimson eyes on her malevolently. “How would you feel if your mortal enemies told you that for the rest of your existence, you would have to do everything in your power to _help_ them, to never be able to even consider the possibility of doing them harm? That, even if you didn’t believe in their cause, you would be their slave for the rest of your life?”

She scoffed. “It’s not really _that_ bad. You just can’t hurt them, there’s no clause stating that you have to believe in everything their doing.”

“That is an easy thing to say now. But once my firewall is down, they can do whatever it is they want, and I’ll have no way to stop them.”

Hands on hips, Mikaela leaned toward him and spoke in her most dangerous voice. “The Autobots are _not_ liars, unlike some people. If they say they’ll only install the program they described, that’s exactly what they’ll do. And then they’ll replace your firewall and you’ll be fine. You have nothing to complain about, and no reason to be so confrontational about it! Stupid, lousy Decepticon.”

“They have no right!” It was almost a yell, and Mikaela shot a smile of reassurance and Optimus.

“If you’re so insistent that you don’t mean the Autobots any harm anyway, then why is this such a big deal to you?” Mikaela asked, arms crossed now.

Barricade glared at her. “You are brave, for a human, to stand there and challenge me to a battle of wills. Very well, you want to know? What I did to your friend Sam was not pleasant. He will never forget the pain of the intrusion, nor will he ever allow his firewalls to break down, for fear that it could happen again.

“My firewalls have never been removed, and to do so will cause me great discomfort and disorientation, possibly for days, even after they have been put back. But more than that are the separate protections that Megatron puts in place for all of his soldiers. In the unlikely event that our firewalls are ever breached, there is a program stored in us that will cause us to shut down, so as not to allow the intruder to retrieve any information about the Decepticons. Your Autobots will have to bypass that before they can breach the firewalls to install their virus, and I do not know if it can be done. If they make the slightest miscalculation, I will die.”

Mikaela stared, taken aback by this blunt admission. “Oh. I didn’t know. It’s not that you still want the ability to destroy the Autobots, or that you think they’ll betray you. It’s that you’re scared. That makes sense now.”

He growled. “I am not _scared_ , you worthless excuse of a maggot! How _dare_ you imply that -”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Mikaela said, fighting a smile. “I’m sorry, of course you’re not scared. How stupid of me to assume such things about the mighty Decepticon…who, if I remember correctly, fled before the Mission City battle ever took place. But then, I’m sure you have a good excuse for that. It certainly wasn’t that you knew the Autobots would win, and you were _scared_ for your life. That would clearly be impossible. I’m just a stupid human, after all, what do I know?”

Barricade growled, standing now to his full height and glaring down at her. “I could crush you where you stand, human.”

She sent a sidelong glance at Optimus, noting that he was tensed, ready to spring into action, but she wasn’t scared of Barricade, not anymore. She looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, you sure could,” she said cheerfully, before turning her back to him and sauntering away.

A roar of anger filled the forest and sent birds flying and wild creatures scurrying for cover, but Mikaela just laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

Sam had to get creative in order to find a way into his house outside the line of sight of the Sector Seven agents. He and Bee backtracked, then went to the next road up that paralleled his own street. Racking his memory, he recalled that it was Mr. Jameson that lived behind him, and that crotchety old Mr. Jameson was conveniently away by now, having left for his annual three month stay at his condo in Florida.

Bee pulled up to the curb and Sam climbed out, closing the door as quietly as possible. “I’ll be back, Bee,” he whispered.

The air beside him shimmered, and a shape coalesced, becoming his best friend’s holographic form. “You are not going alone,” Bee said firmly, the voice now coming from the hologram.

Sam nodded, grateful.

“You should leave the eye patch off. In this form, my senses are limited, and I will not be able to discern danger as quickly as you.”

Sam hesitated. “If Trent sees it…”

“Trent is clearly in too deep now to have not gleaned any information. Despite our best efforts, he has seen and remembered your arm transforming. More is just ‘icing on the cake’ to him, as humans say.”

“Or feeding fuel to the fire,” Sam mumbled, but dutifully stuffed the patch in his back pocket and led Bee around the side and through the backyard of Mr. Jameson’s house. A tall fence separated this yard from Sam’s, but it was chain-link and easily scaled by both him and Bee. “Will you be all right?” he asked quietly, jumping down to the soft grass on the other side. “I know you said you practiced using your hologram, but -”

“I put considerable effort into mastering my ability to use a holoform. It will be several hours before I begin to tire, and even longer before it requires me entering stasis.” He ran a hand lightly over Sam’s arm, and Sam shivered a little at the unfamiliar contact. “Do not worry for me, Sam.”

Nodding, Sam took a breath, looked back at his house. A shadow crossed the closed shades in his bedroom, where lights were burning. Anger surged through him. “Keep to the shadows. The agents can’t see us from their angle, but no reason to tempt fate.”

Bee’s blue eyes, so expressive in this form, were solemn. “What will you do?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Without another word, he took off at a run, Bee right behind him, both nearly silent.

The back door’s window had been smashed in, the lock unbolted, clearly showing how Trent had gotten into the house. Sam turned the knob, and the door swung open silently. He did not reach for a flashlight, his Cybertronian vision allowing him to see perfectly. The tips of Bee’s fingers brushed his arm, allowing Sam to guide him through the darkness his currently limited vision could not penetrate. Sam’s anger became full-blown fury as he took in the wreckage of the house. Each room he crept through was in shambles, drawers opened, cabinets broken, items strewn over the floor. The couch had been slashed open, fluffy white clouds of stuffing littering the floor and sticking out in odd places on what was left of the poor piece of furniture. The television had been smashed in, the coffee table overturned. In the kitchen, broken glass covered the counter surfaces, food from the pantry and refrigerator opened and poured over every surface.

 **Bee, I don’t hear Mojo,** Sam transmitted fearfully.

The fingers moved up, a warm hand touched his shoulder, squeezing gently. **We must deal with the matter at hand, and then we will find Mojo. I do not believe Trent would harm a helpless animal.**

Sam nodded, swallowing as he took to the stairs and made his way to the second floor of the house. More wreckage up here, but not as much. Trent must have started growing anxious, rushing. The light spilling from the open door of his room filled the hallway, and he pressed himself against the wall as he kept moving. He could hear low murmurs, Trent’s voice.

“There’s nothin’ here, I don’t even know what I’m lookin’ for.” A pause. “No, I’ve been over every damn inch of the place! Witwicky has nothin’ here that can tell you anything…no…no…fine, you wanna go after his parents, be my guest, I ain’t got no part in it anymore…yeah…yeah, whatever. All right, I’m comin’.”

There was the snap of a cell phone shutting, and Sam, whose anger was boiling inside him, leapt into the room with a roar of uncontrolled hatred. Trent was caught off guard, but he was quick, and as Sam tackled him, he rolled, landing hard on his shoulder and knocking Sam off in the same instant. Sam was diving at him again before he had a chance to fully recover, and he landed on top of him, one knee pressed into his chest, fist raised, poised to strike. Before Trent’s eyes, flesh shifted to metal, the unyielding fist now becoming much more menacing. Sam kept the transformation to his arm only, the other hand closing around Trent’s throat, pressing down but not crushing.

Trent’s eyes were huge as his mind struggled to process the situation. Bee came over and knelt beside them, blue eyes focused on the cowering football player. “I don’t think you quite realize what you’ve done here,” he told the boy, his voice low and dangerous. “You see, you’ve threatened both Sam and his family, and that is not something to be taken lightly. The Witwicky’s are protected by very powerful beings. Sam has friends that make the agents you’re working with seem like bullying school children.” He paused, watching Trent swallow heavily against Sam’s immovable grip. “There is a way out of this for you, however.”

“Anything,” Trent rasped weakly.

There was a noise from downstairs, and Sam’s head whipped around. “The S-7 agents are coming in,” hr growled. His grip tightened.

“I can get rid of them!” Trent said, desperately. “They’re looking for me, I said I’d be right out. Let me up, I can get them to leave.”

Bee’s eyes narrowed, but he looked to Sam. “It is your call. It could be a trick.”

Another crash, closer to the stairs now. Sam’s arm lowered, became human again, and his cast-iron grip loosened. “Be convincing, Trent,” he said, letting the jock up. “You’ll leave with them, let them drop you off wherever it is they’re supposed to. We’ll be monitoring every word you say, every move you make, so don’t even think about trying to get a message to them about what happened here. We’ll follow from a distance, and when they’ve left you – I’m assuming at your house – we’ll pick you up and tell you in detail how you can _fix this_.” He went to the closet, gestured for Bee to enter first. With a last menacing glare at Trent, he followed and closed the door, allowing his Cybertronian vision to take over in the darkness, his hearing tuned to catch every subtle noise in the room beyond.

Bee’s hand ghosted over his arm and he swallowed, hyper-aware of how close they were in the small space.

The agents entered the room, guns drawn. He could see through the door using both infrared and vibration sensors, and his eyes narrowed when he saw the outline of an agent who could only be Simmons.

“Mr. Fordham. Is there a problem, or do you think it’s funny wasting our time, hmm?”

Trent’s hand reached up, ran through his hair. “Geez, uptight much? I was taking a last look around, didn’t want you thinkin’ I wasn’t doing what I said I would the right way. Like I said, nothin’ here. You might as well take me home. I’ll corner him at school or somethin’ if you want.”

Sam had to hand it to him, Trent was a grade-A actor. _He_ was almost fooled by the cocky attitude, the defiant tone of voice.

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Fordham, you clearly don’t have anything more to offer Sector Seven. It would be better if you go home and just forget this whole thing ever occurred. _Everything_ , Mr. Fordham. If we here you making any more…ridiculous calls to your friends, spouting any more nonsense, you’ll most certainly be seeing more of us, and it may not be as…pleasant for you, if that becomes necessary.”

“Won’t be a problem,” Trent said with a careless shrug.

With a nod, Simmons spun around, motioned to the other agents with him, and the group left the room. Trent cast a glance at the closet, and though Sam couldn’t see his features, he was sure the blonde was smirking. Then he was gone, following the ex-government agents.

**We’ll wait till we hear the car leave. I’ll need you to end your holoform, and meet me out front. By the time I get downstairs, they should be far enough ahead that they won’t notice us following them. Keep your senses tuned in to their car, even from a distance you’ll be able to hear what they’re saying, right?**

**Yes, it won’t be a problem,** Bee replied. **What’s to stop Trent from writing something down?**

**He doesn’t know our limitations, he won’t risk it. He’s a bully, and most bullies are cowards underneath.**

The front door was opening, the group downstairs exiting the house.

**Bee, I’m sorry it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to have our talk tonight.**

Bee turned toward him, and though Sam knew that in this form, Bee couldn’t see him in the dark, the blonde’s eyes pierced right into his own. Sam swallowed hard, not looking away. **It does not matter, Sam,** Bee said, and even his transmitting voice was soft. **We will talk later.**

 **Yes,** Sam agreed. **After this.** He didn’t allow himself to think as he leaned forward, didn’t pause to allow the fear to take over. He simply pressed his lips softly against his best friend’s, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to _feel_.

If Bee was taken aback, he didn’t give any indication of it. To Sam’s surprise, the mouth against his opened, a very real-feeling tongue touching lightly against his lips, seeking entrance. He opened his mouth obligingly, nearly moaning as Bee’s tongue caressed his own.

In another world, very far away, an engine started, and he forced himself to pull away, opening his eyes with a soft sigh. He pushed the door open, wanting Bee to be able to see him, to know how effected Sam was by all of this.

Bee smiled, reaching up a hand to trail across Sam’s cheek, like it was the easiest thing in the world. **Later,** he promised. **We will talk later.**

The holoform shimmered before Sam could reply, then vanished. On the other side of the house, he heard a different engine start, the familiar sound of Bee peeling away from the curb he was parked against. He forced himself to stand on wobbly legs, clenched a fist and took a breath to calm himself, then broke into a run down the stairs and out the door.

Bee was waiting for him, and as he slid in and ran a hand over the steering wheel, he wondered how many more things would change before the end of the night. Daybreak was fast approaching, and they took off as the sky slowly brightened to a hazy blue.

88888

Mikaela could tell almost instantly that something was wrong. For the first few minutes after Barricade had lain on the ground, Optimus kneeling on one side, Ratchet on the other, everything had been quiet. Miles and Will were still on the other side of the clearing with Ironhide and Chromia, both shooting glances every so often at what was going on on her side while the two ‘bots with them talked quietly together and studiously _avoided_ looking in the direction of the Decepticon.

Things started going wrong when Optimus connected a cable from his arm into an inconspicuous-looking plate on the left side of Barricade’s chest. A mechanical, shrilling scream pierced the air, causing Mikaela to jump, and Barricade arched on the ground, tremors running through him.

“Stop it!” Mikaela yelled, her voice pitched only barely over the unbroken scream. “Whatever you’re doing is killing him!”

Optimus disconnected the cable and sat back, watching carefully as Barricade stilled. He had never exited the stasis Ratchet had put him into, but clearly the pain had been all-consuming. Mikaela was surprised to find herself shaking.

“I do not know how to get around the blocks Megatron installed,” Optimus said with a sigh. “The only vulnerable part we can reach is through a port located behind his spark chamber, and if a Cybertronian so much as touches it, he will go off-line instantly.”

Mikaela heard the clarification Optimus probably hadn’t even realized he’d made, grasped onto it. “If you could reach that port, though, connect to it, you could implant your virus without hurting him?”

Optimus stared at her. “I will not ask you to do this,” he said firmly.

“You’re not asking,” she shot back. “ _Could_ you?”

He hesitated, and she had the answer before he even spoke it. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll do it. My hands are small enough, I should be able to reach down and hook the cable up without a problem.” She kept her voice steady, knowing if it shook, her chance to help would be over before she could blink.

“He is a Decepticon, Mikaela,” Ratchet said from the other said of the prone Cybertronian. “He has never done anything for anyone but himself. The energy from his spark could physically harm you in ways I cannot predict. You should not do this. Sam would not _want_ you to.”

“Neither Sam nor Optimus are the boss of me. I make my own decisions. And he may be a Decepticon, but he’s helping you simply by agreeing to this. He was scared for his life, even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone. No one deserves the pain he must have just gone through, _no one_. If I can help, I’m going to, and short of knocking me out, you won’t stop me.” She turned her glare to Optimus.

The Autobot leader’s gaze was heavy. “He would never do the same for you.”

She smiled a little. “I know. But isn’t that what makes _us_ different from _them?_ ” A pause. “I know it could hurt me, but I don’t think it will. Spark energy is different from the Allspark itself, so it won’t have the same effect as it did on Sam no matter what. A spark is just energy, and while he’s in stasis, it’s _dormant_ energy, right?”

Ratchet hesitated. “In theory. But there is still a nineteen-point-thirty-six percent chance that it will have a negative effect on you. Those are not good odds.”

“But they’re better – much better – than his, if I don’t help.” She stood firm. “I’m doing this.” In the back of her mind, she wondered why she _did_ care so much. The Decepticon hated her, there was no denying that. But there was something about him, when they had talked earlier, something that spoke of a deeper pain that the Autobots couldn’t understand, but that she, having lived the life she had, could recognize almost instantly in herself.

Optimus stared at her for another long moment. “You are sure I cannot convince you otherwise?”

In response, she took a step forward, placed a hand against the cold metal of the Decepticon. She pulled herself up onto his chest and positioned her body so that she was kneeling in front of the large metal plates that came together to protect his spark. She glanced at Optimus, who nodded resignedly and handed her the cable protruding from his arm. It was thin, about the width of two of her fingers, with what looked like a large needle at the end that must connect to the place underneath Barricade’s spark.

Ratchet spoke, moving closer as he did so. “I will move the metal coverings aside so that you can reach the spark. You will need to push the spark chamber upwards, away from the port you must connect the cable to. It should not be difficult for you, but be careful not to over-balance. Try to limit your contact with the spark to as little as possible. When it is finished, I will run a thorough scan of you to make sure everything is as it should be.” He shook his head. “I still do not like this.”

She gave him a look. “You don’t have to like it, Ratchet. You just need to make sure we’re all okay afterwards. And I _will_ be, I promise.” She was not nearly so sure of herself, but she had to at least sound as though she was. Either one of the Autobots could pull her away at any moment, and there would be nothing she could do about it. She wondered why they hadn’t as it was.

Ratchet sighed and walked over to reposition himself at Barricade’s head, then, very slowly, pushed first the right chest plate to the side with one hand, then the left with the other. Mikaela’s eyes widened. “It’s… _blue_ ,” she whispered, staring at the beautiful energy source in front of her. She looked up at Ratchet. “It’s just like yours.”

“Did you expect otherwise?”

“I thought it would be red, like their eyes…” She looked back down, staring at the life source in awe.

“Their eyes were one more thing Megatron had altered well after they came online. Another way to discern themselves as what they were.” Optimus shook his head. “He wanted to be as little like the Autobots as possible, and he created his army in his image.”

“But really, you were all alike at one time. The only things separating you were the decisions you each made.” _Decisions that maybe some didn’t really get a choice in._ She wondered where the stray thought came from, and then realized that, with the decisions Barricade was making _now_ , maybe he really hadn’t had a choice _then_. The two Autobots did not reply, and taking a breath, she reached forward.

The moment her hand connected to the spark, it was as though jolts of electricity were flowing through her. Fire spread through her veins, energy engulfed her. The cable dropped from her suddenly lax hand, but the other hand, the hand that was connected to Barricade, could not move. As energy poured through every fiber of her being, her back arched, her head flying back as she let out a silent scream.

There was no pain, it was not the agony she knew Barricade had experienced earlier, but she was powerless against it all the same. It was liquid fire, it was _divine_ , and she didn’t want it to end. She could hear Optimus and Ratchet yelling, but they were so far away, their voices so meaningless. Beneath her, she felt Barricade rumbling as he forcefully came out of stasis, but even the threat of what he would do could not move her. Energy raced up and down her arm, slowly covered her body until she was surrounded in a halo of blue light, and then, just as suddenly, it burned itself out.

As the currents of energy left her body, and the fire inside her began to cool, her eyes rolled back and she slumped, not even noticing when a large metal hand broke her fall and cradled her against the body she had been kneeling on.


	18. Chapter 18

There was a strange pressure in her chest, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was rather pleasant…a warmth that moved through her, over her, around her…comforting, rather then bothersome, and for a long time, she allowed herself to simply drift along the currents of that feeling.

It was some time later that she became aware of sounds again. The first she heard was frantic yelling, too close, and it set off the pounding in her head. The second was a sharp response to the first, and it came from directly beneath her. That voice did not make her head hurt…it seemed to have rather the opposite effect, bringing back the comfort of oblivion.

But she was awake and aware now, and she stirred, opening her eyes very slowly, blinking against the harsh lights surrounding her. Memory slowly returned, of liquid fire and beautiful, beautiful sensation. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “What…happened?” she asked, her voice raspy as though it hadn’t been used in days.

Something tightened around her waist, and she blinked again and looked down, realizing for the first time that she was lying on a very large metal frame. _Barricade._ Somehow, when she had collapsed, she hadn’t fallen as she had first thought. The Decepticon had apparently caught her, and had kept hold of her. She very gently touched the hand around her waist, and it suddenly released her as though burned.

Swallowing again, she looked up, horribly confused, into the solemn eyes of Ratchet kneeling next to them. “Ratchet? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She did not dare to look into the eyes of the Decepticon beneath her, too scared of what she might see.

Ratchet held his hand out, and understanding, she pulled herself up and crawled onto it. Almost immediately, Barricade stood, looking more dangerous than she could remember seeing him ever.

“We need to discuss this,” Ratchet told him softly.

The Decepticon growled. “ _You_ discuss it. I am leaving.” He spun around to face Optimus, who was standing on his other side. “Don’t try and stop me, Prime.” Without another word, he folded himself into the Saleen Mustang and sped away, lights flashing.

Mikaela found herself trembling now, the pressure in her chest becoming almost painful, and she turned fearfully back to Ratchet. “Something went wrong. What happened? Is he okay? Am _I?_ ”

Ratchet set her gently on the ground, and while her legs were wobbly, she found that they supported her. The medic looked over to the other side of the clearing. “Chromia, perhaps it’s time that you took Miles to school. I’ll take Mikaela myself if she’s up to it. Ironhide, if you would take Captain Lennox back to the hotel, I believe Optimus had an assignment for you. He will meet you on the outskirts of town to discuss it with you.”

There were no words spoken between any of them, they simply transformed and followed Ratchet’s orders. The trembling increased as they each departed, until she finally clenched her fists and spun to face him. “Stop stalling and tell me what’s _wrong_ with me!” she yelled.

They were the only two in the clearing now. Ratchet sighed and sat cross-legged in front of her so that they were almost eye level. “There is no easy way to explain this, Mikaela. Physically, you are fine. Your body sustained no damage from the…incident.”

She allowed herself to relax a tiny bit. “That’s good, then. What about Barricade?”

“He, also, is fine. Physically. Emotionally, I think you yourself were able to deduce that he’s a bit…tense. Mikaela, this may be difficult for you to understand, as you do not fully comprehend the meaning of the term ‘spark-bound’.” He paused, watching as she froze and turned her eyes up to state at him in growing alarm.

“I don’t have a spark, Ratchet,” she said slowly.

“Apparently, you do not need one to bind yourself to one of us.” His voice was soft, and it was hard to make out over the sudden roaring in her ears. “Something in you called to Barricade, something that his spark recognized as a match. When you touched it, it latched on, and though he was in stasis, it seems that he was aware enough to conduct a spark-binding, albeit subconsciously. Do you feel a strange sensation in your chest?”

She nodded numbly, one clenched hand slowly rising to press against the spot where she could feel the strange pressure.

“That is Barricade’s spark energy, a small amount, that he transferred to you during the binding. It is a piece of his life force, just as a piece of yours transferred to him.”

“But if I don’t have a spark -”

“All living beings have a soul, Mikaela.”

She sat down heavily on the grass beneath her, staring straight ahead but not seeing anything. “Won’t it do to me what it did to Sam?”

“No,” Ratchet said firmly, shaking his head. “This is completely different. The energy Barricade transferred to you did not attach itself to your heart. It lives within you, all around you, but it is not a spark itself, only a piece of one. As far as I can tell, it is not affecting your internal organs at all.”

“But I… But…” She swallowed against the dryness. “Don’t you have to love the person, to bind to them?”

There was pain in Ratchet’s eyes now, sympathy for her, and she _hated_ it. “Your soul and his spark recognized something in each of you that was compatible. When you actually touched it, I believe that was all the confirmation his spark needed to initiate the binding.”

“But I’m _human_. How can a human be bound to a Cybertronian? It doesn’t make _sense_ Ratchet!” She was desperate now, trying to find some way out of this, trying to make the world make sense again.

“Humans have a saying that ‘love knows no bounds’, do they not?”

“ _I don’t love him!_ ” she yelled, jumping up again, furious at the whole damn universe. She wondered if this was how Sam felt at first, like the earth had fallen away beneath him and he was clinging by his fingernails to a very steep cliff, trying not to plummet.

“I cannot explain it any better than I have,” Ratchet said, helpless.

She wiped angrily at her eyes, glaring at the tears smeared on her hand. She would deal with this, she _would_ , and she’d be damned if she did it while crying like a whiny bitch. She took a few moments to calm herself, and then spoke very softly. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“He is still a Decepticon, Mikaela,” Ratchet said carefully. “However, the bond did more to ensure his loyalty to us than even our virus ever could have. He will not be able to harm you, and by extension, he will not be able to harm us because we are your friends. He is angry right now, feeling vulnerable and betrayed by his own body.”

“There’s a ‘but’ somewhere buried in there, isn’t there?” she asked.

Ratchet sighed. “But…I believe in his own twisted way, he cares for you. No matter how it happened, we all saw it. He would not let you go when you collapsed, simply cradled you against him as though…”

“What?” she asked, annoyed at his pause. “As though what?”

“As though you were precious.”

88888

Some time later, Sam lay in the backseat of the Camaro, staring up at the roof of the car but not really seeing it. They had gotten everything they could out of Trent, everything they’d expected and then some. Agent Simmons was working with Starscream, and wasn’t that just a kick in the ass? The two groups he hated the most, working together to destroy him and everyone he cared about. And how were they supposed to deal with this now, their small band of Autobots, a hybrid who barely knew how to fight, and a couple of humans?

“Sam,” Bee said, very gently breaking into his somber thoughts. “If we do not leave soon, you will not make it to school on time.”

“School is the last place I should be right now…there’s too much to do, too much to _think_ about doing. And the Decepticons already know everything that Sector Seven knows, everything Trent saw. It doesn’t matter anymore if they notice a change in patterns.” He sighed. “I should contact the others, have them keep Miles and ‘Kaela with them. If Simmons will go after my family, he’ll go after them as well.”

From the front seat, Mojo yipped out a little bark, and Sam quirked a smile at the small dog. Trent had drugged him, stuffed him in the doghouse to keep him quiet, and Sam had retrieved him before coming here with Bee, to the one place he could seem to think.

“I believe you may be correct about the safety of your friends,” Bee agreed. “I’m contacting Optimus now.”

“Thanks, Bee.” Sam was utterly exhausted, both mentally and emotionally, even if he was physically fine. Bee, as always, seemed to understand this and was doing his best to take care of him.

“That’s strange…” the Autobot murmured a few minutes later, sounding discontent. “It appears the group has already split up. He is contacting Chromia now, to tell her to bring Miles back to the clearing, and Ratchet to stay with Mikaela.”

Sam sat up, troubled. “Why wasn’t ‘Kaela with Miles?”

“He wouldn’t say, only claimed that everyone was fine but that Mikaela had things she wished to discuss with Ratchet.”

“Damn it, I have too much going on to worry about this. What the hell happened in the small amount of time we were gone?” **Barricade, where are you?**

**That is not your concern, hybrid. Leave me alone!**

The link slammed shut so forcefully that Sam reeled backwards, truly perturbed now. “What the _hell_ is going on?”

“Should we head back to the clearing, find out what happened?”

Sam thought about it carefully. Normally, it would be the first thing he would do, but now his family was in danger, and that had to be his first priority. Whatever was happening with the others was troubling, but Optimus seemed to have it in hand, whatever it was, and if someone had been seriously injured, surely they would have been told. “They’ll get by without us for a little while. I need to get to my parents before Sector Seven does, find somewhere safe for them to stay.”

“Perhaps we should at least contact Captain Lennox. He also has family to be concerned about, and Simmons will know where to find them as well.”

“That’s a good point.” Sam dug out his cell phone, flipped it open, dialed the number from memory.

“Sam?” Will said, picking up on the second ring. “What is it?”

“We might have a problem,” Sam replied, and proceeded to explain the events of the past two hours. The captain was silent, digesting the information, until Sam finished. “He threatened to go after my family, and I’m worried about Sarah and Annabelle.”

“I am too.” Will’s voice was anxious. “Come by and pick me up at the hotel, we’ll get your parents and Sarah, and I’ll work on finding someplace safe for them.”

“Where’s Ironhide?” Sam asked, confused. Captain Lennox was very rarely without the weapons specialist anymore.

“On assignment from Optimus. I don’t know the details.”

“That seems to be going around,” Sam muttered. “All right, we’ll be there in a few.” He snapped the phone shut and climbed into the front seat, reaching over to give Mojo a pat. “You’ll be with Mom and Dad soon, buddy. No more evil jocks to hurt you.”

“Do you believe Simmons will return to your house, Sam? Perhaps we should go and retrieve the shard of the Allspark first.”

“We already did,” Sam said. He slid a hand underneath Mojo’s collar, pried off the small object wrapped in cloth that he had sewn to it months ago. The cloth fell open in his hand to reveal the same shard that had bit into his flesh during the Allspark’s destruction, the same shard that had allowed the transfer of the spark into his body. It was no more than an inch and a half long, and about a centimeter wide at the largest point. Hardly something that looked like it could do the damage it had done.

“You hid a piece of the Allspark underneath your dog’s collar?” Bee asked, incredulous.

Sam shrugged. “Seemed like the one place no one would think to look.”

Bee laughed, the sound reverberating through the car’s speakers, and even Sam quirked a grin. “You are truly amazing, Sam Witwicky,” the Autobot said. “Now let’s go retrieve Captain Lennox and make sure your families are safe. We should get back to Optimus and the others as quickly as possible, as we appear to have much less time to prepare than we thought.”

Letting out another small sigh, Sam replied, “Let’s go.”

88888

Mikaela had managed to pull herself together just in time for Chromia to re-enter the clearing, Optimus right on her tail. She stared, confused. “What’s going on _now?_ ” she wondered aloud.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it can be anything good,” Ratchet replied, standing swiftly.

Chromia stopped and allowed Miles to climb out before transforming and walking over to Ratchet.

“Miles, what’s up?” Mikaela asked as the blond reached her.

“Dunno. We were almost to the school when Chromia got a message telling her to come back.” He glanced over to the Autobots, who were conversing quietly at the far edge of the clearing, then back to her. “So…you okay? I dunno what happened before, but it looked bad.”

“I’ll be all right,” she replied, a little touched by his apparently genuine concern. “Just…a lot to deal with, and I don’t even know how to start. I wish Sam was here…”

She even wished Barricade were there. Whatever she was going through, he was as well. At least maybe she wouldn’t feel as lost then. But neither of them were, and she was going to have to suck it up and deal with it on her own for now.

“I do, too. Surprised he’s not, isn’t he always where the action is?”

She snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, he is. Which honestly means that wherever he is, he’s probably worse off. Hope he’s all right.”

“Sam is fine,” Optimus said, coming over and kneeling beside the two humans. “He and Captain Lennox are procuring safe places for their families, and he thought it prudent to make sure his friends were kept safe as well. Your school is not the place to keep an eye on you, and would make it too easy for Sector Seven to track you down.”

“Sector Seven!” Mikaela cried, stunned. “But they were disbanded after Mission City!”

“We believe they are working outside of the government. Captain Lennox is getting in touch with Secretary Keller to confirm that, but their current alliance points toward them working on their own, and for purposes I don’t like to contemplate.”

Understanding dawned, and he face froze in horror. “The Decepticons?”

Optimus nodded soberly. “Sector Seven tracked Trent Fordham when they intercepted a phone call he made to a friend…a phone call outlining the details of what he had seen of Sam’s condition. Simmons recruited Trent to go to Sam’s house and see if there was any information he could find. It is safe to say that whatever Trent knew, the Decepticons do as well now.”

“I don’t get it. Why would Simmons work with Starscream? He knows what they’re capable of.” Mikaela crossed her arms, trying to make sense of everything.

“I can only conjecture at this point. But I believe Simmons wants power within the government, power he believes Starscream can get him. He has no love for Sam, and he can help deliver him to the Decepticons, who very much want him dead. It’s a good arrangement for both sides.”

“This isn’t good,” Mikaela said. “The Decepticons are more likely to step up the time they’re going to attack now.”

“It will still take Starscream some time to get his recruits together,” a new voice spoke. Mikaela whirled to face Barricade as he re-entered the clearing, his cocky attitude firmly in place. “There is still time to prepare. Two weeks, at least, if you think you can manage that.” The last was directed at Optimus, who stood and faced him, seemingly unconcerned.

“We will be ready,” the leader said firmly.

“Good,” the Decepticon growled. His gaze swiveled to Mikaela, who swallowed. “You will come with me. Now.”

It was Ratchet now who moved to intervene. “She does not have to go anywhere with you, Barricade,” he said, stepping in front of the two humans protectively.

“Get out of my way, Autobot scum!” Barricade growled.

Mikaela placed a hand on Miles’ arm when she noticed him shaking a little. She gave him a reassuring smile. “He’s not all that scary, I promise,” she whispered, then stepped out from behind Ratchet. “It’s okay,” she said to the medic, who glanced down at her worriedly. “He won’t hurt me, and I should talk to him.” She walked with unhurried steps over to Barricade, crossed her arms. “Stop being a bully. If you want to talk, you could at least have the decency to ask.”

In response, he folded himself into his alternate form, popped the driver’s side door open. She sighed, cast a reassuring glance back at her friends, and climbed into the Mustang, ignoring Chromia’s shout and wincing a little as the door slammed shut and they sped away at ridiculously dangerous speeds.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

88888

It had been a mostly silent trip so far, aside from Will occasionally yelling orders into his phone when it rang and Mojo whining in the backseat. They’d been driving for a few hours, and were nearing the place the Witwickys were staying, which was thankfully almost directly en route to the Lennox place.

Sam glanced at the quiet air force captain. “So what was going on this morning before Ironhide dropped you off?” he asked.

Will looked up, a little surprised at the sudden conversation. “Optimus didn’t tell you?”

“No. Everything was pretty rushed when we left, and it was either worry about what was going on there, or worry about my family. At least Miles and ‘Kaela have the other ‘bots looking out for them. My parents are totally clueless.” Sam drummed his fingers a little on the wheel, hoping they made it there before Simmons.

“Oh.” Will ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “They were having trouble uploading the virus into Barricade. Something about a firewall, and extra protections that would offline him. Mikaela offered to help, I don’t know why. Ratchet and Optimus tried to talk her out of it, but that girl is stubborn.”

Sam nodded, knowing the truth of that statement. “So what happened?”

“I guess the plan was to have her place the cable somewhere beneath Barricade’s spark chamber. It should have been a piece of cake, but something…happened, when her hand touched the spark.”

A cold pit was settling into Sam’s stomach as he processed the words, remembering Barricade’s violent anger from earlier. “Is Mikaela all right? I thought Optimus would have told me if she was hurt…”

Will placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, steadied him. “She seemed okay when I left, a little shaken, but not hurt. I don’t know the specifics of what happened, only that Ratchet wanted to explain it to her away from everyone else, which was why we all left. Barricade’s spark energy…I don’t know, it seemed to _fill_ her. She was surrounded by it for a couple of minutes, and then she collapsed. It was the damndest thing. She was out for a solid hour, but Barricade wouldn’t let go of her. Ratchet was only able to determine that her vitals were fine and she seemed all right. Wasn’t till she woke up that the Decepticon tore out of there like he was being chased by the hounds of hell.”

Sam gripped the wheel tighter to keep his hand steady. “You’re sure she seemed okay? Not out of it, sort of zombie-like?”

“No, she was very aware of everything around her, and like I said, shaken. But she was okay as far as I could tell. I promise, Sam.”

“What happened to Mikaela was not what happened to you, Sam,” Bumblebee spoke up, his voice apprehensive, like he was holding something back.

“Bee, what is it? If you know what happened, _tell_ me!”

Bee hesitated, clearly unsure if he should divulge the information, and Sam almost growled in frustration. “It sounds…very similar to a spark binding,” the ‘bot said quietly. “Though I do not know how it could have happened, or why.”

Sam’s whole body froze, and he stared blankly out the window. “What?” he ground out.

“I cannot be sure, of course, without running a diagnostic scan on at least one of them. And I have never witnessed a spark binding before. But from what I know of them, it is very similar to what Captain Lennox has described.” Be was quiet a moment. “Sam…”

“Shut up for a minute,” Sam growled, and though he instantly regretted it, he did not try to take back the words. He needed quiet, to think. _Mikaela, I’m so sorry I ever dragged you into this…_ He pressed against the link he had to Barricade, was relieved to find it closed but not locked against him. He opened it tentatively. **Barricade. Is she all right? Are you with her?**

There was no reply for a minute. Then, finally, **Your human is fine, hybrid. I won’t harm her… _can’t_ harm her. Cease your incessant squawking at me before I find you and show you the meaning of pain.**

The words themselves were threatening, but Sam could not detect the true anger that usually accompanied Barricade’s tone, and it relieved him. **Could you please tell her I’m sorry? Please, Barricade.** It bothered him to plead with the Decepticon for anything, but right now as far as he knew, he was the only link he had to Mikaela, and that meant more than his pride.

 **She says to stop being an idiot. I am _done_ playing messenger now, go worry about your own ridiculous love life,** Barricade snarled.

“I think she’s okay,” Sam said softly as he cut the transmission.

“Were you just speaking with the Autobots?” Will asked.

“No. Barricade.”

Before either Will or Bee could remark on that, Sam caught sight of the exit they needed to take to reach his parents, and he steered Bee toward it, glad to know that in a few minutes, his family at least would be safe. He was more eager than ever now to get back to Tranquility.

88888

“Sam’s blaming himself,” Mikaela said quietly, leaning back against the seat as Barricade drove. They’d been driving for a while, and as far as she could tell, had already crossed over the state line. She thought that should concern her more than it did, but she’d been determined to stay as quiet as Barricade had been until Sam had suddenly contacted him.

“That is not my concern, nor do I care if the worthless hybrid is determined to beat himself up foolishly,” came the voice from the speaker system. “It _is_ his fault, in any case, and you should remember that.”

“That worthless hybrid is my best friend, you scum-sucking excuse of an alien, and I’ll thank _you_ to remember _that_. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine, for being stupid enough to care about whether you lived or died.”

She noticed as they entered a patch of woods very similar to those in Tranquility, and a few miles later, they entered a clearing, this one small, and clearly man-made, though what the purpose had been for it, she could only guess at. The door popped open, and taking the hint, she stepped out and allowed the Decepticon to transform. Now that they were very alone, and face to face, she began to feel nervous.

When he was fully transformed, he knelt down and stared at her. “So, the Autobot doctor believed we should discuss this. Discuss away, human.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, a protective gesture this time, rather than a cocky one. “You know what happened?” she asked.

“Of course I know, what sort of inane, stupid question is that? It’s not some errant line of code I can dismiss, you are now written throughout my entire being! You have somehow become my reason for existing, I would do _anything_ for you now! Brainless, hopeless human! You don’t have the _slightest_ idea what has happened to us, do you!”

She swallowed tightly, something uncoiling in her chest as she processed his words, and ignored the anger behind them as easily as she ignored the question. “Why do you hate humans so much?”

He glared at her. “Biological beings are messy, disgusting, and utterly without use. You die too quickly to be of any real use to the galaxy, and are fragile beyond measure. Yet somehow, you seem to think you are the rulers of the galaxy. You destroy your planet without thought of consequence, and you strive toward doing the same to others. When you come across something you do not understand, you dissect it, and it matters very little if it is a living thing or just an object. You cause pain to all those around you, including yourselves, and you stand there and wonder why the Decepticons loathe you!”

“But…you don’t,” she said, brow furrowed. “You can’t really hate all of us, or the bond never would have formed.”

After a long moment, he finally replied, “No. I don’t. But I am not like most Decepticons. And do not ask me to explain, I won’t.”

“Fair enough.” The longer she stared at him, the more aware she became of the feeling in her chest, until it began to consume her, making her powerless against whatever force it was that caused her to step forward. Barricade’s optics flared in the dim light. “Damn it,” she said, her voice tortured. “I shouldn’t…feel…like this.” But she did, and she had before the bonding ever occurred, though without the same intensity. She must have. Why else would she have been so forceful about helping him in the first place? Why would she have felt that strange kinship with him, just before the world went crazy? Why had she derived so much pleasure from baiting him, matching her wit against his?

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Barricade replied, his voice as gruff as it always was, but without the bite it usually held.

“Tell me I’m not crazy,” she whispered, the pressure wrapping around her chest, tightening painfully. “Tell me you feel it too. Tell me _anything_. I can’t…it’s too _much_ , I can’t take this!” She sank to her knees, head bowed, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye that she couldn’t bring herself to wipe away. She was dimly aware of the large ‘bot kneeling in front of her, but didn’t acknowledge him until his finger reached under her chin, lifting her face to look at him.

“I feel it too,” he said, optics flaring again as her breath caught and her eyes widened. “I don’t know why, or how this happened, but I feel it too.”

The finger reached up, ran gently down her cheek, trailing blue sparks as it did so, and she moaned as desire pounded through her. “This isn’t _right_ ,” she whispered, but didn’t believe the words even as she spoke them.

Barricade did not reply, he simply pressed her gently back with his hand, so that she was lying on the soft grass, eyes closed. He trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek again, and again, she moaned at the contact. Though her eyes were closed, the blue sparks danced in her vision, creating a symphony of light behind her eyelids.

The next touch was not so innocent, as the dexterous fingers slid under her t-shirt and up her stomach. She cried out, body arching under the touch, and his laughter coursed through her as much as his touch seemed to. His other hand reached around, cradling her against it as he simply touched her. The sparks were everywhere, surrounding her, engulfing her. His fingers traveled lower, ghosted over her shorts and then trailed down her leg before coming back up and pressing against her abdomen.

It was too much sensation, too much _everything_ , and then the fingers ghosted over her breasts, and the world went white as she came, calling his name while she could barely remember her own.


	19. Chapter 19

“Secretary Keller, thank you for getting back to me so quickly,” Will said into the phone. Sam perked up, glancing over at the captain, then turning to smile reassuringly at his parents and Sarah.

They were all seated in the Lennox’s living room, where Sam and Will had done their best to explain the current crisis to them. The Witwickys looked scared, but were drawing strength from each other through their clasped hands and frequent glances. Sarah seemed to be taking it in stride, and Sam had the feeling she’d known something like this might be coming. She sat calmly on the rocking chair, holding little Annabelle nestled in a blanket in her arms.

“Yes, sir, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” A pause. “Yes, I believe so. Look, we’re working on the issue with the Autobots, and until we know more, I’d like to keep the government relatively far away from it. I’ll be happy to keep you informed of everything that happens…What?…Sir, I don’t believe that’s necessary.” Will let out a sigh. “All right, fine, I understand….Yes, sir. Were you able to find a safe location for our families?…Yes…I’ll definitely check on that, sir, but I don’t believe so…Yes, thank you, sir. We’ll be there tomorrow morning, then.” He snapped the phone shut and passed a hand over his face before looking at Sam.

“What’s up?” Sam asked.

“The secretary isn’t happy about the Autobots turning down government aid for the time being, but he respects that they’re not quick to trust, especially considering half the trouble is coming from an ex-government agency. He is, however, sending someone to keep an eye on things and report directly back to him on whatever’s happening. I don’t like that there’s another person we’ll have to watch out for, but I can’t argue with him. He’s also putting together a safe house for our families, and wanted me to ask if Mikaela’s father or Miles’ family will need protection as well.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Sam replied, troubled. “But Mr. Banes’ parole hearing is next week. I don’t relish the thought of explaining all of this to him or Miles’ parents and little sister, but it might be best. I don’t think the ‘cons would think to go after my friends’ families, but we shouldn’t chance it.” He paused, considering. “And actually, if we put his family into hiding, Miles might not object to going with them. That would keep him away from the fighting as well.”

“The safe house will be ready tomorrow,” Will said, “so we can get Sarah and your parents there first thing, and then go back and worry about your friend Miles’ parents. After the hearing, if Mr. Banes does get released, Mikaela can explain things to him. Do you think she’s likely to go to the safe house with him, like you’re hoping Miles will?”

“Not a chance,” Sam replied, wishing he were wrong. “She’d never leave her friends to fight alone, she’s too stubborn. But she’s tough, and I trust her to watch herself.” He sighed. “I guess that’s as good a plan as we’re likely to get. You think we’ll be safe here tonight?” Sam and Bee, who was parked outside, both had every sense attuned to the area surrounding the house, both to detect a coming Decepticon, or a Sector Seven vehicle.

“Contact Ironhide. He’ll know what the agents are up to.”

After a long day of driving, Sam had finally contacted Optimus for an update, and had been told that the weapons specialist had been sent to keep a careful, and inconspicuous, watch on Agent Simmons.

Sam nodded, opened the link to the gruff Autobot. **Ironhide, anything special going on over there?**

**Negative, Sam. Agent Simmons spent most of the day ordering his agents around, but nothing that would bring them anywhere near you at the moment. He is currently at your house with most of his team, conducting a much more thorough search, and plans to move in on the Witwicky’s tomorrow night. He is very cocky, and apparently believes you will not think to be concerned for their welfare before then.**

**Chances are, he considers whatever I might have at the house more important. Luckily there’s nothing there, but by the time he realizes that, we’ll be gone. Any updates on the Decepticons, or they still lying low?**

**Our scanners have so far picked up no Cybertronian activity outside of our own. Barricade believed we would have at least two weeks before Starscream would be fully prepared to move in and attack.**

Sam swallowed at that particular ‘con’s name, wondering if Mikaela was really okay. He wanted to call her, talk to her, see if she needed anything or just someone to talk to, but didn’t dare in case the agents had a tap on her cell phone. His second task tomorrow would be to procure safe, untapped phones from the government for both his human friends, and for their families. **Thanks, Ironhide.**

**You should be safe tonight. I will contact you if there is any further activity.**

“We should be good, but I want to get an early start tomorrow,” he told the others, and watched his mother visibly relax against his father. Sarah glanced at Will, and smiled gratefully when he placed a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “You guys should all get some sleep. Bee and I will keep an eye on things, just in case.”

“Sam, shouldn’t you get some rest as well?” Judy asked from her spot on the couch, looking at her son worriedly.

“I’m good for a few days,” he said softly, a gentle reminder that things were different for him now.

“Oh…all right then,” his mother replied, wringing her hands a little before offering him a tentative smile that he returned instantly.

“Mr. And Mrs. Witwicky, if you’ll follow me, I can show you to the guest room,” Will said. Next to him, Sarah stood, and he turned to her with a soft look in his eyes. “Why don’t you put Annabelle’s crib in our room tonight? I’ll be in in a minute.”

She nodded, stood on her tiptoes to offer him a small kiss before turning to the Witwickys. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but I’m very glad you’re here. If you need anything, please let me or Will know.” She smiled at them. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Ron replied as they stood. He wrapped an arm around Judy, nodded to Sam. “Goodnight, son.”

“Night, guys.” He sketched a wave to the small group and walked outside, turning his face up to enjoy the light breeze on his face, trying to feel a little bit relaxed. He pulled the eye patch off and stuffed it in his back pocket, then wandered over to where Bumblebee sat gleaming in the moonlight. “Hey, buddy,” he said, running a hand over the hood.

“Sam,” the Autobot murmured. “Is everyone settled in all right?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna stay here the night, leave early tomorrow. Ironhide thinks it’s safe enough, and really, they need the rest. My parents…they’re trying to put on brave faces, but they’re pretty freaked. Anyway, it was smart of Optimus to have someone tail Simmons for awhile.”

“It is not unusual for Optimus to consider things others may not. And Sam, your parents are very strong. They will be all right. What of the others, is there any word from them?”

“I haven’t contacted them yet,” Sam replied, a little ashamed of himself. “I’m…sort of afraid to get an update, in case Mikaela is still away with Barricade. I just…don’t understand it all yet, y’know? Until I can talk to her directly, I’ll worry no matter what. I’m almost happier staying in the dark, and I’m sure if there were any other problems, we’d hear about it.” He paused. “Do you think I’m a horrible friend?”

“I could never think that, Sam, and they will not either.”

Sam nodded, feeling a little better with the reassurance. “Bee…do you think we could talk now?” His voice sounded very small to his own ears, and he wondered how he could _still_ be so nervous.

The air beside him shimmered, visible even in the darkness with his Cybertronian vision, and materialized into the human image of his best friend. Sam stared, a little surprised, and Bee explained, “I thought this was a conversation best had face to face. And while this area is secluded, I thought it best to avoid drawing attention by transforming, just in case.” His voice, in this form, seemed softer somehow, and Sam thought he could happily drown in it.

“Oh…” he said, not very articulately. “That does make sense.” Now that the moment was upon him to truly discuss his feelings, he didn’t know what to do, or where to start, and the way Bee was looking at him, with such a soft smile on the human face, was making his mouth dry up and his grasp on the English language disappear.

Bee seemed to sense his distress. He grasped Sam’s hand and pulled him over to the rose garden Sarah Lennox kept. There was a small wooden love seat that Sam suspected had been built by Will, and Bee pushed him gently onto it before seating himself next to the nervous hybrid. Bee leaned back, stretching his legs in front of him and staring up at the starlit sky. Sam simply stared at him, as transfixed by the sight of Bee as Bee seemed to be by the clear night sky.

“Did you know,” Bee said after a moment, “that of every species we encountered after we left Cybertron, it is yours who has the clearest, brightest view of the galaxy?” He smiled a little, his eyes seeking the various constellations and dimly lit planets. “It was the one thing that kept me going when Optimus sent me here. I lived, for years, among these messy biological beings, watching as they went from one frivolous endeavor to another, never really understanding them. I was bitter toward Optimus, for giving me this task, and then telling me I would have to protect one of those creatures, with my life if necessary.” Sam stayed silent, but swallowed a little to ease the pressure in his dry throat. Bee turned to look at him, his eyes, not even real, glinting with the light of the moon. “And then I met you, Samuel James Witwicky, and everything changed.

“I was very young when the war began, and never put any thought into finding someone to love. Even seeing how close Ironhide and Chromia were, it never seemed important to me. More trouble than it was worth, really. But then I saw you that first time, and something inside me…altered. My spark recognized you instantly, despite the fact that you were human, despite the fact that you had no spark of your own. I didn’t know what the feelings were at first. Why I craved being near you, why I strove so desperately to make sure you were safe, and happy. Why seeing you with another caused such deep pain in my spark. At first, I thought it was a glitch in my systems…even considered going to Ratchet for a diagnosis. It wasn’t until Mission City, when you ran to protect the Allspark and I wondered if I would ever see you again, that I knew I was in love with you…that I could even fathom what love felt like.” He fell silent, his eyes trailing over Sam’s face, gauging his reaction.

“Oh God, Bee,” Sam said, a breathless laugh escaping him. “How do you expect me to compete with a speech like that?” He took Bee’s warm hand in his, grasped it tightly, turning his body to more fully face the Autobot even as his eyes slid down and away. “I was so scared, when I first realized that what I was feeling was more than friendship. You’ve been there for me through all of this, more than anyone else. You know me so much better than I even know myself. I was terrified of screwing up our friendship. I…I think I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you, the _real_ you, but I couldn’t admit it, even to myself. And there was…Mikaela, and I loved her too, and she was _human_ , and I didn’t have to face all those crazy, scary feelings. But I realized recently that…you’re who I’m meant to be with. Who I’ve _always_ been meant to be with.”

Sam took a breath, looked up.

“You said you recognized something in me from the beginning. Maybe the Allspark recognized _that_ … We both held it that day. Maybe it knew, and was trying to help. Maybe that’s really why all of this happened. And that makes it all so much easier to bear, knowing that it’s because of the Allspark, because I’m _not_ human anymore, that I get to have you. That I get to love you.” He reached up a hand that was surprisingly steady, traced it over Bee’s jawline, his cheek, into that soft, soft hair. Bee closed his eyes and let out a trembling breath that gave Sam pause. “You can really feel all of this?” he asked, surprised it hadn’t occurred to him before.

“Part of the programming that Optimus helped me with,” the ‘bot replied, not opening his eyes. “When I activate the holoform, all of my senses are uploaded into it. I am, for all intents and purposes, human, when I am like this…although without, of course, the various biological needs of a real human.”

“Why would you do that?” Sam asked, moving to draw back. Bee reached up and grasped his hand, holding him there. His eyes blinked open. “It must be uncomfortable for you.”

Bee shook his head. “No. Not when it can help me be closer to you, Sam.”

“Bee…” Sam said, his heart swelling. “It wasn’t your human form I fell for, you know. I love you, all of you, every part, and even if you had never created this form, I would still want this, to be with you. You don’t have to keep it just for me.”

Bee’s smile was as blinding as it was beautiful. “I know. And truly, that makes me love you all the more.”

Sam huffed out another laugh. “God, I feel like such a _girl_.”

Bee did not respond, he only lifted Sam’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles, never taking his eyes from Sam’s. “I love you. I will _always_ love you, now.”

Now Sam could feel himself trembling a little, so overwhelmed with emotions. His voice, when he spoke, shook. “I love you too, Bee.”

The startling blue eyes of his guardian seemed to pierce straight through him. “I would very much like to kiss you now, Sam.”

In response, Sam shifted closer, brought his hand up again to run through Bee’s hair. It seemed to be a sensitive spot to the Autobot, because his eyes drifted closed again and he made a little humming sound in the back of his throat. Taking advantage, Sam leaned forward and captured Bee’s lips with his own.

The contact was like a drug to his system, instantly setting every nerve aflame, and he craved _more_. Bee’s mouth opened beneath his, a velvet tongue slipping in to tangle with his own, and he pressed closer, one hand cupping the back of Bee’s neck, the other grasping his waist, then sliding up, underneath the leather jacket, underneath the t-shirt, craving the touch of heated skin.

Bee gasped at the contact, and Sam swallowed it, their tongues suddenly battling for dominance as he shifted his weight again, sliding one leg over Bee’s lap until he was straddling the Autobot, hands now grasping at the jacket and pushing it off, barely noticing that as soon as it was no longer touching Bee, it disappeared. He grasped the t-shirt as well, pulling it up and off, breaking the kiss for only the barest of seconds, and then there was blissful skin beneath his fingertips. Bee’s holoform was all hard muscle under soft skin, and Sam couldn’t help himself as his fingers traced over every inch they could find. Bee moaned into his mouth, and he felt himself hardening, more than he ever could remember before in his life. He tore away from Bee’s lips and kissed his way down to his neck, biting and sucking and _living_ for every sound of pleasure Bee made as he threw his head back and allowed Sam total control, his hands digging into Sam’s waist.

One of Sam’s hands dropped lower, grazing along the waistline of Bee’s jeans, deft fingers flicking open the button, and holy _God_ , Bee was _aroused_ , and somehow he hadn’t expected that, but he thought it was pretty fucking amazing all the same. He thought that right up until Bee suddenly grabbed his ass and pulled, yanking him closer so that suddenly, there was beautiful contact, and he simply _couldn’t_ think anymore. He made a whimpering sound, mouth latching on to Bee’s again, and he felt the ‘bot smile just a little.

A strange blip danced across his receptors, a beeping noise sounding in his head, a flashing light suddenly in his field of vision, and he dragged himself away from Bee, body protesting ever inch of the way, _hating_ himself as he did, trying to figure out what was going on. It didn’t take long.

 _***Approaching vehicle, jet, Cybertronian***_ \- was the message flashing across his sensors, and that could only mean one thing, which made his blood turn cold and his eyes widen. Bee was staring at him, confused, his holoform unable to detect the approaching danger, but it didn’t matter for long because all of a sudden they could hear the jet approaching, a scream in the otherwise still night.

_Starscream._

Sam stood, already running for the house, and from the corner of his eye he saw Bee’s holoform vanish and heard the telltale sound of him transforming a moment later.

_Shit._


	20. Chapter 20

She was focused solely on _not_ looking at him. She wouldn’t even allow her eyes to wander to where he sat, leaning against a tall oak tree across the very small clearing. She herself was sitting on a soft patch of grass, one arm wrapped loosely across the knees drawn up to her chest, the other to her side as she absently traced patterns in the grass. They had been sitting in these positions for the better part of an hour, both completely silent. His silence was merely contemplative, however, and hers was deep and almost frightened.

 _What the hell am I **doing** here? He’s a Decepticon! Two weeks ago, I was terrified of him!_ She ran a trembling hand through her hair.

“Mikaela,” Barricade finally spoke, optics focused on her for the first time since she’d put as much distance between them as possible.

Very slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his, and was surprised to realize she could actually read the concern in his expression. _Two weeks…two weeks can be a long time when you’re dealing with giant living robots._ She took a breath, released it slowly. “I’m okay,” she said, and tried to believe it. “That was just…unexpected? And…sort of _fast_ , all things considered.”

“I suppose I should apologize,” Barricade said gruffly.

Mikaela’s eyes ran over his face. On legs that were still somewhat unsteady, she stood and went to him, coming to stand only a couple feet away, hands clasped behind her back. “You don’t need to apologize. I… _liked_ it…hell, I practically begged for it.” She flushed a little, remembering. “That’s…part of the problem. I’m so overloaded with these intense, _crazy_ feelings that I don’t even fully understand. I just need to wrap my head around it all, before…”

“Before you’re ready to try something like that again?” Barricade asked with a smirk, one metallic eyebrow raised sardonically.

“You _would_ feel smug, wouldn’t you?” she said with a huff, but grinned a little all the same, feeling better for reasons she couldn’t entirely fathom. “And yes, that’s what I meant.”

“That is understandable. You are, after all, only human.”

She actually laughed, the sound coming out choked and desperate. “God, this is _insane_. This whole thing…fucking insane.”

“You and the hybrid certainly do seem determined to have your lives completely intertwined with the Cybertronians’,” Barricade noted. “It’s just a tad ridiculous, the lengths you’ll go to.”

“Oh, of course, because we both asked for this, didn’t we?” she giggled. Actually _giggled_. All the while wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

Barricade stared at her, then shook his head slowly. “I think you may be in shock. Or quite possibly suffering some type of delusion. Are you sure you’re all right? Not five minutes ago, you were shaking, terrified.”

“I think I’m actually okay, really,” she said, stifling the giggles that still wanted to erupt. “I might be a little insane, but then, I probably wouldn’t question the insanity if I really was. Actually, you mentioning Sam really helped. I have a much deeper understanding of what he was going through, and knowing he came out okay in the end…well, it makes a difference.”

“To be fair, his fate was not instantaneously wrapped around that of a Decepticon, either. You seem remarkably calm all of a sudden.” He studied her intently, trying to read her through her actions.

She grinned at him. “And to be fair, you’re a reformed Decepticon, which isn’t nearly as bad as, say, Starscream. Besides, I liked you before…all this.” And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? She’d been scared of him once, but more recently, she’d enjoyed verbally sparring with him, had practically taunted him without thought to the consequences, and she’d felt so protective of him when the Autobots would have let him die. No matter how illogical it was, whatever fear she’d had of him had clearly died when he came to them for help.

“You are definitely the strangest human I have ever encountered since arriving on earth,” he said, shaking his head again. “I am glad, however, that you seem to be coping.”

“Just give me time, Barricade. I’ll get used to all of this. My emotions right now are just…all over the place. Clearly. But I’m okay, now. And I don’t think I’ll be so taken by surprise next time something…happens.” She would have gone to sit down next to him, now that she was calmer, but was stopped from doing so when his head snapped up and his body tensed. “What is it, what’s wrong?” she asked, instantly worried. She was going to get whiplash with how rapidly her emotions were bouncing from one end of the spectrum to the other.

“No…” he said, his voice strained. “Starscream can’t possibly be that stupid.” He stood swiftly, shooting a glance at her. “We must go. Sam and Bumblebee are in trouble, and no one else is close enough to help them.”

She was already backing away, giving him space to transform. “What do you mean, in trouble? Where are they? Where are _we?_ ”

“They are at the Lennox residence. We are only a few miles away. When we crossed the border into Nevada, we followed it. The captain lives with his family just on the other side of the border and one town over.”

Her eyes were wide. “This whole time, from the moment you came back to the clearing to pick me up, you were following them?” Her mind was in overdrive, trying to process everything. “You stayed close to them on purpose. In case something went wrong, and the Autobots were too far away to help. You did that for me.”

Barricade did not reply, only folded himself into Mustang form and swung the driver’s side door open silently. Mikaela climbed in, ran a hand over the steering wheel. “Thank you, ‘Cade,” she said softly.

“If you value your life, you will never, _ever_ call me that again,” was the growled reply, followed closely by, “And you’re welcome.” The seatbelt came across her chest without her touching it, bucking itself and tightening almost painfully. “Hang on, we’ll be moving much faster than you’re used to.”

She took a breath, leaned back in the seat, and closed her eyes as the car jolted forward, sending up plumes of dirt and grass behind them. By the time they reached the highway, they were moving at over two hundred miles an hour, and still climbing.

It wasn’t until they were nearly to the Lennox place that she processed what he’d said earlier. _Starscream. Oh dear god._

He must have felt her tense, and understood what it meant. “If I thought you would be safer, I’d have left you in the clearing back there,” he said. “But I cannot guarantee that Starscream does not have reinforcements, and I would rather have you within my sights so I can try to protect you. Sam and Captain Lennox’s families are both there as well, and perhaps you can be of use keeping them calm.”

She swallowed, taking a few deep breaths. _Stop being a baby and help your damn friends,_ she told herself firmly. _You met Starscream before and survived, you’ll damn well do it again._

Her thoughts did little to reassure her against the memory of missiles launched from a screaming jet, of being thrown to the ground as debris fell on and around her, of her hand reaching for Sam’s as terror and adrenaline coursed through her…

88888

The sky was lit with missiles before Starscream was even in sight, and Sam yelled out a warning to Bee even as he was wrenching the door to the Lennox house open, nearly ripping it off its hinges in his haste to get to his family, to get them safe. He caught a quick glimpse of the Autobot as he dove away from the projectile, saw it hit the earth and blow a wide chunk of dirt and grass in all directions, and then he was whirling around, dashing into the house and bellowing at the top of his lungs, “ _Lennox!_ ”

He took the stairs three at a time, bursting into the guest room just as the lights in the master bedroom flipped on. “Mom, Dad, you have to get up now, come on,” he said, turning the light on and shaking his father’s shoulder. His parents both jerked awake, the fog of sleep and fear battling for dominance in their expressions. Will entered the room half a second later, looking for all the world like he’d been wide awake for hours. Sam heard Sarah murmuring to the baby from their room.

“What’s going on?” Will asked, his air force training surfacing instantly, clear as day in the way he held himself and the tight expression he wore.

“Starscream,” Sam replied as he leaned over and helped Judy sit up. Her hand clenched on his. “Starscream is here.” Almost as if in response to his words, there was an explosion outside that shook the foundations of the house and had light flaring in through the curtained windows. A load wail from Annabelle sounded from the master bedroom, and Judy began trembling. Sam forced himself to remain as calm as he could. “Will, contact the air force. I don’t know if there are others with him or not.”

There was a rumble almost like thunder, and the shrieking sound of the jet cut through the air, much closer now. Farther off, Sam picked up the roar of another engine, and he cursed as another warning signal flashed across his sensors. “Damn it, he’s not alone.” Will was already moving, grabbing up the phone and punching numbers in rapidly. Sam spun back to his parents, and spoke quickly even as he practically shoved them off of the bed. “You need to get into the basement, it’s the safest place until backup gets here and I can find a way to get you out. Go down, Sarah and Annabelle will go with you. _Stay there,_ until one of us comes to get you. Don’t come up for any reason otherwise, even if you hear one of us call for you. They can mimic voices if they want to, if they think of it. Do you understand me?”

He was trying to shepherd them toward the stairs, nearly frantic, but paused when his father stopped in his tracks and grasped his arm. “You’re coming with us!” he said, almost desperately.

Sam stared into his eyes, reached up to cover his hand with his own. “I can’t, I have to help Bee. He’s outnumbered and at a disadvantage as it is against Starscream. I’ll be fine, I swear. _Trust me_.” His heart was racing, knowing he couldn’t really promise any such thing, but he needed his parents as calm as possible.

After a moment that seemed like an eternity, Judy’s hand snaked up to her husband’s and son’s, and with her other hand, she turned Ron’s face to hers. “Ron, we need to let him go. He’ll be safe.” And finally, with a final squeeze, his father released him.

Sam nodded to him, his expression focused, reassuring. “Get downstairs,” he said one more time, and then he was running, transforming even as he flew down the stairs, metal tearing through fabric as his clothes fell away, unnoticed and forgotten. By the time he hit the door, thankfully left open in his haste to get to his parents, he was already in his alternate form, his engine roaring as he spun, kicking up dirt as he searched with sight and sensors for Bumblebee.

 **Sam!** The ‘bot transmitted, at the same time as another explosion rocked the ground beneath him. Starscream was in sight, seemingly focused on an area half a mile from his position and to the north, presumably where Bumblebee had engaged him, trying to keep him occupied while Sam saw to his family. **There is another Decepticon a mile away, to the southeast. I’ll keep Starscream from the house for as long as I can.**

Sam’s engine revved, and he immediately turned to the direction Bee had indicated, spinning in a tight circle and gunning it. **Will’s calling in reinforcements, I don’t know how long it will take them to get here. The rest of the Autobots are too far out to be able to help. Do you get a read on any other Decepticons in the area?**

**No, only the one on the ground where you’re headed. But that means very little, more could still be coming. Be _careful,_ Sam.**

**You, too,** Sam replied tightly, knowing if he was human, there would be a ball in his throat at the thought of something happening to Bee. The area where his heart and spark rested squeezed tightly for a moment, until he forced himself to focus.

Sam wasn’t sure what he hoped to accomplish, going up against a presumably battle-hardened Decepticon with nothing but a comparatively small gun and his own human instincts. The very small bit of training he’d gotten from Ironhide suddenly seemed woefully inadequate, and he wished with a feverish intensity that he’d taken further lessons from the weapons specialist. He was not ready for any kind of battle, clearly. The only thing he could really hope to accomplish was keeping it away from the house until reinforcements arrived.

He could see the newcomer now, a silver Audi R8 headed straight for him, headlights gleaming, the engine a roar in the otherwise still night. Sam put on a burst of speed, accelerating until only a dozen or so yards separated them and then he veered to the left and transformed simultaneously. Before the Decepticon could so much as transform an arm, he fired three rapid shots ( _still so fucking **cool**!_ he thought) at him. Two were glancing blows that didn’t slow him at all, but one took out a headlight, and that seemed to get the ‘con’s attention.

He skid past Sam, who was already transforming back, and swerved, trying to knock into the much smaller bot and probably crush him. But as fast as this thing was, Sam was faster, and the sleek motorcycle was already taking off in the direction the Decepticon had come from, hoping to lead it away from the house and his family and the Lennoxes.

Either this Decepticon was very slow on the uptake, or Sam had _really_ pissed him off, because he was pursuing him now with a nearly psychotic intensity, and that intensity was suddenly allowing him to start gaining on Sam, slowly but surely.

Sam pushed himself as hard as he could, and managed to gain a little ground back, but suddenly, his sensors indicated that the Decepticon behind him had stopped, and a moment later, he heard the tell-tale sound of transforming.

 _Ah, fuck,_ he thought, as a warning flashed across his vision, indicating that the ‘con had a weapons lock on him. There was nowhere he could try to dodge out of the way, nothing but empty field in his vicinity.

The missile fired, and all he could do was brace himself. At the last possible second he transformed and threw himself to the side. It was enough to prevent a direct hit, but not enough to escape unscathed. The missile glanced off his arm, hit the ground, and exploded. Agony the likes of which he’d never felt burst through Sam as his left arm was literally torn off by the explosion. He may have screamed, but he wasn’t coherent enough to know for sure. An agonized cry of **_Sam!_** resounded in his head, so he thought he must have at least transmitted some sound of pain without meaning to.

He clenched his jaw, rode out the wave of pain – and God, he hadn’t known Autobots _could_ feel pain like this, certainly Bumblebee hadn’t reacted this badly when he’d had both his legs ripped off – and finally managed to transmit to Bee, **I’m okay.** He wasn’t, not even close, and judging by the smirk the Decepticon striding toward him wore, he was about to get a lot worse. But Bee losing focus of his own fight would be disastrous, and Sam could still hear the jet screaming back and forth, launching missiles at the Autobot and dodging the shots Bee sent right back.

Sam got to his feet, weak and dizzy with pain, knowing there was nowhere he could run, but needing to fight all the same. His right arm became his weapon – a powerful gun, but probably nowhere near powerful enough to take down the much larger Decepticon, even on his best day.

The smirk his opponent wore widened. “You have no chance of besting me, hybrid. Stand down, and I’ll at least grant you the mercy of a painless death.”

“Go to hell,” Sam growled, taking aim.

The shot came out of nowhere. One moment, Sam was facing his own death, fear tightening his chest and agony still lancing through him, and the next, the Decepticon was missing an eye and thundering in rage. Sam spun around and felt his heart soar at the sight of the familiar Saleen Mustang speeding out from beyond the small copse of trees he had been heading for during the chase.

**Barricade!**

“You traitorous scum!” the nameless Decepticon roared, and then the silver car was barreling toward the Mustang, and just before they would have slammed into each other, they both transformed. Almost instantaneously, Barricade dropped and spun a kick outward, tripping the other Decepticon and causing him to land hard on his back. From that position, he brought his gun up and rapid-fired half a dozen shots at Barricade. Barricade, the larger and more menacing of the two, simply let them glance off of him. A cruel-looking blade-like extension slid from his arm and without a thought, he brought it down on the other, stabbing deep into his spark and twisting.

It all happened in less than a minute.

A high-pitched whine emanated from the unknown Decepticon’s vocal processors, and his arm jerked and shuddered, and then after a moment, fell still. The glowing red light of his remaining eye dimmed and finally, _finally_ , winked out altogether.

Sam dropped heavily to his knees, adrenaline no longer enough to support him through the pain and exhaustion that were battling for dominance in him. When Barricade turned to face him, he didn’t even allow himself time for a thank you, knowing it would have to come later. “Please, help Bee. Starscream ambushed us, I don’t know what’s going on…”

Barricade nodded, already transforming. **Do not transform at all until your medic can fix your arm. Stay here, with Mikaela. I trust you two to watch out for each other.**

Sam didn’t think he could possibly have moved anywhere even if he’d wanted to, but at Mikaela’s name, his head snapped up to look at Barricade, who was already speeding away, toward the Lennox’s house and the fight still going on. He turned to look back toward the trees, and felt his heart stutter when he saw Mikaela making her way over to him.

“Sam!” she yelled, breaking into a run.

He waited until she neared him, and then stretched his face into a smile as much as this form would allow. “Hey, ‘Kaela,” he said, weakly. “Miss me?”

She dropped beside him, throwing her arms around him, and he allowed himself a moment to rest his head on her shoulder as his remaining arm tightened around her.

“Sam, you idiot, you weren’t supposed to get yourself blown up!” she chastised softly, shaking with silent sobs.

“’M okay,” he replied. “Your boyfriend has awesome timing.”

The laugh that bubbled out of her sounded strangled, but at least it was a laugh. “What happened? Is Bee okay? And your family?”

“I think so. God, it was all so fast. I think Starscream must have just gotten impatient, thought he found the perfect moment to attack when we weren’t expecting it. I don’t know, I barely had time to make sure my parents and Sarah and Annabelle got into the basement, and then we picked up on the second Decepticon, and no one was in the area for backup, and…God, ‘Kaela.”

Now that the immediate danger to him had passed, his every sensor was focused on Bee, making sure he was okay, so much so that he barely registered the arrival of F-22s overhead as the air force arrived, finally.

Mikaera did notice them though, and she squeezed him tightly once more before pulling away and pushing at him to lie down. “Relax, Sam. I think we’re safe for now. Just rest until Ratchet gets here.”

And damned if that didn’t sound like the best idea ever.


	21. Chapter 21

Sam realized he must have passed out – or gone temporarily offline – only when he found himself suddenly on a blanket on the floor in the Lennox’s living room, with no memory of how he got there. He focused his optics, saw Mikaela curled up on the La-Z-Boy across the room. He heard his parents in the kitchen, talking in low voices to Will and Sarah.

“Sam? How are you?”

He looked to his right, and there was Bee, or Bee’s human projection, kneeling next to him and looking worried. His heart trembled, relief pouring through him at the sight of his best friend, alive and well. He raised his left arm, felt no pain. “Better,” he said. “Ratchet is a miracle worker. How long was I out?” He sat up, testing the motor function of his arm. It seemed perfect, as good as new.

“Several hours,” Bee replied. “It’s almost dawn. The air force is getting ready to move the Lennoxes and your parents to a safe location, they were just waiting on you. The Autobots and Barricade are outside, keeping surveillance.”

Sam nodded. “Do we know what happened yet, why Starscream got so impatient?”

“No, not yet. Optimus believes he sensed an opportunity and struck without thought. He would not have known Barricade’s location, and so he would have thought us outnumbered and weak…a perfect time to attack.”

“And now, unfortunately, he knows Barricade’s true loyalties.” Sam sighed. “There goes our surprise advantage.”

Bee placed a hand on Sam’s arm gently. “Still, you and Barricade defeated one of their number, and Starscream retreated. This counts as a victory, Sam.”

“I guess,” Sam said with a self-deprecating shrug. “I didn’t really do anything… Barricade saved my ass, and took out the Decepticon practically in seconds.”

“What saddens me is that you truly believe you did nothing. Sam, you weakened Sideways substantially before Barricade appeared, you must realize that. He was not one of the Decepticons strongest fighters, but he was not even close to their weakest either, and Barricade never could have incapacitated him so quickly if it wasn’t for the damage you’d already done.”

Sam stared up at Bee, trying to judge how much he was embellishing to make Sam feel better. All he saw was blunt honesty in the too-human eyes, and he looked down again, would have flushed if he was in his human skin.

“You did well, Sam. Better than any of us, even yourself, could have expected.” Bee sighed. “I was terrified for you the entire time.”

“I was scared for you, too,” was Sam’s quiet reply. “But we’re both okay, if a little beat to hell.”

Bee was quiet for a long moment. “Ratchet was unsure how your arm would be once you transformed back. He is fully capable of repairing a machine, and as a medic, he’s irreplaceable…but in your case, with a third, biological form…he just didn’t know.”

“I figured,” Sam replied. “S’why I didn’t transform yet. Kinda nervous.” He glanced over at Mikaela, saw her still deeply asleep in the chair, then took note of the gray pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that had been left nearby. He sent a mental thank-you to Will for the foresight. “Well, no time like the present, right?”

With Bee’s steady gaze on him, he allowed metal to shift back to his natural form, breathing out as his eyesight altered last and there was still no pain. The he flexed his hand and blinked.

“What is it?” Bee asked, noting his expression.

Sam tugged on the sweatpants and t-shirt as he examined his arm. It was working fine, he had full motor function, but… “I can’t feel it. My whole arm is completely numb past the shoulder.”

Bee was on his feet and by Sam’s side in an instant, pressing gentle but insistant fingers into various places on Sam’s arm and hand. “You feel none of that?” he asked, his tone worried.

“Nada,” Sam affirmed. “But I can move it fine, it’s not paralyzed or anything. Maybe it’s temporary?”

Bee didn’t look hopeful, but he replied, “Perhaps. You should have Ratchet take a look at it.” He paused. “I did not expect for there to be a mark. But I suppose it makes sense.” His eyes closed. “Sam…”

“Hey,” Sam said, tilting Bee’s chin so that he was looking at him. “I’m okay. This, even if it can’t be fixed, isn’t your fault. God, Bee, you held Starscream off by yourself, there’s no way you could have done that _and_ protected me.”

Bee’s eyes searched his for an indefinite amount of time. He must have found what he was looking for, because after a moment, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sam’s, a chaste kiss that reassured them both that they were still there, alive and mostly whole. “I love you,” Bee whispered against his mouth.

Sam pulled away, smiled up at his protector, enjoyed the way his heart trembled again for an entirely different reason this time. “Love you too, Bee.” He looked down at his arm again, at the ring of angry red, jagged scarring that circled it just a few inches below his shoulder.

The complete lack of feeling was maddening. It was familiar…he’d fallen asleep on his arm enough times that asking up with it completely numb for a few minutes wasn’t uncommon. But this wasn’t going away.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Bee asked, searching his face again.

Sam took a breath. “I really thought I was going to die this time. More than the first time I met Barricade, more than Mission City… I thought this was it. All things considered? Yeah, I’m okay. I promise. Even if it is permanent. I’m okay.”

Bee nodded, finally accepting it, just as Mikaela stirred and whispered, “Sam?”

He grasped Bee’s hand tightly once, and went over to kneel by Mikaela’s chair. “Hey there. Doing okay?”

“Should be asking you that,” she replied sleepily. “God, Sam, your arm…”

He gave her a reassuring smile and used his hand to brush some stray strands of hair out of her eyes. “My arm is fine, don’t worry so much. Ratchet’s good at what he does.”

“’Kay,” she said, accepting that at face value as she was only half awake.

Sam gazed at her concernedly, and Bee spoke up, answering his unasked question. “She was very shaken, when things calmed down, and requested a mild sedative to help her sleep. She’ll be fine.”

Right now, she already seemed to be falling back to sleep, but she blinked her eyes open long enough to ask, “Is ‘Cade okay?” which sent a tremor through Sam’s whole body as he remembered what his friend had already been through today, even before Starscream.

“He’s all right,” Bee answered, coming closer. “Worried for you, but fine.”

“Good,” Mikaela said, and then slid effortlessly back into sleep, leaving Sam blinking at her owlishly.

When he glanced back at Bee, he was surprised to see his form flickering almost imperceptibly. “Geez, Bee, you’re exhausted, aren’t you? Like, need-to-go-into-stasis-right- _now_ exhausted.”

Bee hesitated, then sighed wearily and nodded. “I wanted to make sure you were all right, but I may have overextended myself after the fight by remaining here for so long.”

“Damn it, Bee, get some rest!” Sam said, but he was smiling a little. “I need to talk to my parents and everyone anyway.”

Bee took a step forward, visibly concentrating on solidifying his holoform. He raised a hand and pressed it to Sam’s cheek before kissing him deeply one more time and vanishing.

Sam took a breath and looked up…directly into his father’s startled eyes. His own widened and he took a step back before he was even consciously aware of doing so. Upon inspection though, Ron didn’t look angry, only…resigned. “Dad?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Should probably have seen that coming somehow,” was all the Witwicky patriarch said before nodding toward the kitchen. “Will wanted to talk to you when you woke up. Are you okay?”

Sam managed a nod, feeling a little shell-shocked. “Yeah, mostly,” he said, deciding not to worry them with anything else while they already had so much stress to deal with. “No pain at any rate.” Ron looked relieved, and Sam followed him into the kitchen, reflecting that he really had the awesomest parents in the entire damn universe, despite all their quirks.

Judy, Will, and Sarah were sitting at the kitchen table talking quietly, Annabelle sleeping in her mother’s arms, Mojo circling the room happily wagging his tail. Will stood when Sam came in, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good to see you okay,” he said, and Sam smiled a bit.

“Good to be okay,” he said quietly. “Thank you for getting the air force here so quickly.”

Will nodded, stepping back over to his wife, and Sam went around to the other side of the table to lean down and wrap his arms around his mother. She trembled a little, but didn’t speak, just clung tightly to him for a long moment.

“So what’s up?” he asked when he finally pulled away and looked back at Will.

“The safe house is ready, and there’s a jet waiting to take your parents and my family there now.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, handed it to Sam. “That’s government issued, with upgrades that have been designed, tested and proven to work against tracking by anyone…including the Decepticons. We’ve each been given one, and so has Mikaela. I have another one for you to give to your friend Miles.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, impressed. He remembered thinking he was going to ask for something just like this. It was good to know that someone, probably Keller, was keeping on top of things. He glanced back at his mom, who now had Mojo curled in her lap, then looked over to his father. He cleared his throat. “You guys good to go?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Judy nodded, her face pinched and a little frightened.

“I won’t see you guys until this is over, but I promise I’ll keep in contact. If I can manage it, Miles and his family will be joining you soon, and possibly Mikaela’s father if he gets released next week.” Sam’s heart wrenched as he watched the tears forming in his mother’s eyes, and he bent down swiftly to wrap her in another hug, laughing a little brokenly as Mojo barked at him. “It’ll be okay, I promise. This is just a precaution.”

“But what about you, Sam? You can’t promise that _you’ll_ be okay!” she hiccupped.

Ron came over, rested a hand on Judy’s shoulder as Sam pulled back a little. “He’s got a lot of friends watching out for him, sweetheart,” he said softly. “A lot of friends who I think would rather die than let anything happen to him.”

Sam caught his father’s eye, flushed a little but nodded. “We’ll get this taken care of, and I’ll have you both back home before you even have time to miss me.”

“You better!” his mother said with a sniff, her voice sounding a little shrill. He gave her as much a smile as he could manage, silently thanked his father with his eyes. Behind him, he was aware of Will saying his goodbyes to his own family, and beyond the front door, the hushed murmurs of the air force pilots who remained awaiting orders.

He sighed. “Probably should get going. They’ve already been waiting a while.”

His mother stood swiftly, Mojo bundled under one arm as she wrapped the other around him and squeezed tightly. “You be careful!” she whispered fiercely.

“I will. I promise. I love you.”

She let go, gave him a firm nod, and swept out of the kitchen before she could have a chance to give in to more tears. There would be time enough for that later.

Sam watched her go with a small half-smile, and when he looked back at his Dad, the older man was waiting with his own hug. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said. “And I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” Sam whispered, clinging tightly. “Look after Mom.”

Ron nodded, pulled away and clapped Sam on the shoulders before following after his wife. Sam watched them go, watched Sarah take Annabelle and follow after them. He and Will shared a look, both of them knowing it was for the best, neither eager to watch their families go. “I want this done, Will,” Sam said, his voice soft. “I want to take Starscream _down_.”

Will nodded sympathetically. “I do too. We’ll get it done. Show these bastards that this is _our_ planet and they can’t have it, any part of it.”

Encouraged by the air force captain’s conviction, Sam released a slow breath and nodded, more than ready to make it happen.


	22. Chapter 22

They spent a week planning. Strategizing. Getting ready in whatever ways they could for something they weren’t even sure they could prepare for.

In the end, Miles went with his family to the safe house without protest, although Sam could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Even less happy than Miles, though, was Chromia, who Ironhide begged to go with them to watch over the humans who had no way of defending themselves if the air force failed in their protection.

Sam breathed easier, knowing his friend was out of harm’s way, and he could tell that Ironhide was breathing easier knowing his newly-returned bonded was.

Mikaela, Sam knew, would never leave his side, and he respected her enough to give her the choice, especially when her father – newly released and breathing free air for the first time in a long time – was given hurried explanation amongst his welcome-home hugs and begged into following Miles’ family. Mikaela watched him go with tears in her eyes, but she was grateful.

And in the meantime, Sam was also smart enough to realize that the way things were going, he didn’t think he could have dragged her away from Barricade for anything, even if sheer stubbornness wasn’t enough to keep her with them.

Watching their relationship progress was…interesting. Terrifying. Amusing. And all in equal measure. But the more time went by, the more obvious it became that despite the strange way it had happened, despite their incredibly wide range of differences, despite everything that should have stood in their way…they genuinely cared for each other. It was there, plain as day in the way their eyes found each other while discussing battle strategies, or the way Mikaela blushed when Barricade brushed one giant finger along her arm. The way he watched her, his gaze speculative and wondering and sometimes – _sometimes_ – just simply adoring.

In all the chaos, in all the confusion and the _not knowing_ what was going to come next, Sam found himself impossibly grateful for that one measure of comfort.

Mikaela was _happy_.

And somehow, despite everything, Sam was happy too. He didn’t see much of Bumblebee during that time – Optimus had sent the yellow ‘bot on a recon mission almost immediately after leaving Will’s, and he’d only been back to report his findings in person twice. But he and Sam still stayed in contact almost constantly, and the one night Bee had stayed, Sam had spent the hours curled around his best friend’s human projection, not saying a word, content to just enjoy the other’s presence for as long as he could.

Tonight, though…tonight was going to be something different. They were as ready for the battle that was coming as they could be in the time they had, and there was only a little time left before they would fight.

For better or worse, this was the last chance Sam knew with absolute certainty they would have a few moments of peace. And given Bumblebee’s words to him that afternoon – **I need to speak with you. Alone. Tonight. Please, Sam.** – he knew it too.

It was already dark when he was finally able to get away and make his way to the clearing where Bee had promised to meet him. They weren’t staying in Tranquility right now – it was too obvious, too easy a place for either Simmons or Starscream to find them – but both Bee and Sam had agreed that their old spot would be safe enough for this once.

Bee was already waiting when he arrived and shifted his way back to human. The small pack he’d finally learned how to keep with him when alternating forms was quickly unzipped, and he threw on some sweatpants and turned to face Bee.

The Autobot was wearing something that almost looked like a small smile on his robotic face, and it made Sam grin to see it. “Hey, Bee,” he said softly, climbing onto the ‘bot’s hand when Bee lowered it.

“Sam,” Bee replied. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” Sam’s voice was a sigh as Bee brought him close and he was able to press a hand – his good hand, the one that could still _feel_ – to the ‘bot’s chest. “You said you needed to talk. It sounded important…?”

Bee’s eyes closed as Sam’s hand trailed down, and he released something like a sigh. It made Sam smile, as it usually did, thinking of how very human-like the Autobots could be sometimes. “Sam…” Bee said.

Sam’s head tilted. “Hey. Bee. C’mon, what’s up?” he asked.

“I wish…” The ‘bot stopped, frowned a little, inasmuch as his face allowed him to. Sam pulled back, perplexed. “I wish to…”

Bee was _nervous_ , Sam suddenly realized. His heart sped up. What could possibly be making the ‘bot nervous, here and now, unless… “Bee?” he said, quietly.

Those glowing blue eyes opened, found Sam’s, held his gaze with magnetic force. His words, when he spoke, were said without inflection, quiet and serious and earth-shattering. “I wish for us to share a spark-bond.”

Sam sat down very abruptly, feeling a little like the earth – or Bee’s hand, in this case – had dropped out from beneath him. “You…what?”

Bee’s other hand came up, stroking along Sam’s spine. “I already belong to you, in every sense but this one. I wish for us to become bond-mates, because I believe it is what we are meant to be, Samuel James Witwicky.”

It sounded… It sounded like a marriage proposal, or something, and Sam was a little startled to realize that, in terms of Cybertronian culture, that’s basically what it was. Only about six thousand times more serious, and more permanent, and…

“Why, Bee?” Sam asked. Had to ask. “Because you think we’re not going to win? Because it might be our last night? The last chance we’ll have for…”

Bumblebee’s hand trailed gently over Sam’s cheek. “No. Because it will _not_ be. Because I believe we will win, Sam. And because this will be one more thing worth fighting for.”

And suddenly, the world righted itself again. Sam couldn’t stop the smile from breaking free, or the way warmth spread through him at Bee’s words. He _definitely_ couldn’t stop the way his mind begged, _yes, do it, this is what you want!_ He stood up again abruptly, feeling giddy with anticipation. “Tell me what to do.”

Bumblebee stared at him, his gaze impenetrable, for a long moment. Like he was surprised by Sam's eager agreement. "You understand, don't you? What this will mean? How serious it is?"

"I get it, Bee," Sam promised. Eagerness made his words come too fast, his smile spread too wide. "I want that. You and me, we make _sense_. Always have. If we're going to go into this fight, we should go into it with no regrets and no time wasted. Right?"

The blue light within Bumblebee's optics flared brightly in joy. "Yes," he replied. "You are absolutely right. _Sam_."

Sam's hand went back to Bumblebee's chest, and he felt the vibrations running through his friend's metallic frame. "So? What do I do?" he asked, his voice breathless.

"I feel this would be easier in your Cybertronian form," Bumblebee said slowly. "But if we are to do this, I admit that I would rather have you as you are. As _you_."

"Same here." Sam's smile softened and became something he'd probably call downright _sappy_ , the next time he reviewed this moment in his memory. He didn't mind at all.

"In that case…" There was the clicking and whirring sound of parts shifting, and Sam watched with rapt fascination as Bumblebee's chest plate slid open, revealing the spark chamber cradled inside. Blue energy crackled all around it, drawing Sam's eyes with a force that was impossible to turn away from.

Within him, he felt something leap and ignite: his own spark. He pressed his hand to his chest, felt his heart racing, but he wasn't afraid. Instinct drove him forward. He kept his left hand by his side. He wanted to feel this, every bit of it. His right hand reached out, almost without his own conscious effort. Bee's optics were wide, his hand shaking minutely under Sam, but as Sam got closer, he seemed to steady himself. By the time Sam's fingers were brushing the very edges of all that glorious energy, he was holding himself completely still, but Sam could hear a high-pitched whine in the air that he knew Bee couldn't control right now.

He pushed his hand further. As his palm pressed flat against the spark chamber, everything inside him _erupted_.

Electric energy raced through him, crackled and danced in the air between and all around them. Sam may have called Bee's name, but by then he was already on his knees as he was overcome with sheer rapture. He felt Bumblebee's free hand come up behind him, trembling fingers gentle along Sam's spine as he steadied him even through the sensations coursing through them both.

It was lightning and power, it was _alien_ , but it also felt like warmth, and like _home_. It was everything wonderful Sam had ever experienced, it was _beyond_ anything he could possibly have imagined. He _felt_ the piece of himself that tore away, cried out again as it burst through him and mixed and mingled with the waves of spark energy between them. And just as it was reaching for Bee, he felt Bee – or Bee's essence – flow into _him_.

There was a sound like a thunderclap as all the built-up energy around them blinded him with light, and then slammed back into them both. Sam's hand, which had been clinging desperately to the spark chamber, abruptly released, at the same time as Bumblebee very slowly dropped to his knees.

Sam was breathing hard, unable to process everything he was feeling, un _willing_ to take his eyes from Bee's, and he saw the wonder that flared deep in those too-blue depths. "You okay?" he asked his friend – his _bond-mate_. He had to clear his throat around the raspy quality of his voice.

Bumblebee nodded, very slowly. "Overwhelmed," he said after a long moment. "It is…not what I anticipated."

"Better or worse?" Sam asked quietly.

Those fingers ran down Sam's spine again. Sam felt the sparks trailing along his skin. It was incredible. "Better," Bumblebee assured him. "So much better." **I love you, Sam.**

"I love you too," Sam replied, closing his eyes and just _feeling_.

Holding his charge carefully, Bumblebee shifted to lie down on his back, then closed his eyes and let Sam curl up on his chest.

They were both asleep within moments.

88888

Sam dreamt of Cybertron. Not the Cybertron that existed after years of hard war and desolation and destruction, but the one that existed before the Decepticons and their bid for power. The one that was peaceful, and shining, and bright with potential. The one where the Autobots and the Decepticons mingled as friends, where there was no such thing as _hatred_ anywhere.

This Cybertron was _home_. This was where Bumblebee was created and raised, and where he became the Autobot Sam cared for so much.

Thousands of years, and this world had flourished. Stars lit the sky like diamonds, and the people who lived here wanted for nothing more than what they had.

It was beautiful, and precious, and in this dream – these _memories_ – Sam felt Bumblebee's longing for it right down to his core. And _he_ longed for it as well. A place where his friends and his bond-mate would feel like they belonged, where they weren't outsiders. Where maybe he himself could find a place where he fit, hybrid or not. The Cybertronians, at least, would accept him as he was, while the humans never could.

He wanted it, for all of them, desperately.

And even when he woke again, the yearning didn't disappear entirely.

88888

"You are seeing my memories again?"

Sam ran a his fingers along the hood of the Camaro – smiling at the sparks that trailed in their wake – as he walked around and climbed into the driver's seat. They'd lingered too long, resting for hours beyond what they'd meant to because they'd both apparently needed it after the bonding. "Yeah," he replied, running a hand over the steering wheel. God, he couldn't seem to stop _touching_.

Bumblebee's engine rumbled, almost like a purr, making Sam laugh. He felt so full, his friend pressed so deeply inside him they could never really be separated, and he couldn't imagine how he'd ever lived without this.

"Should we be worried?" Sam asked. "I mean, this is the second time."

"No, I don't believe so. I believe it is just… _us_ ," Bee replied. "Further proof that this was meant to happen, perhaps."

Sam nodded, smiling. "I like that thought." He looked out the window, taking note of the rapidly-brightening sky. "Wish we could stay longer," he sighed.

"We will return," Bumblebee promised. "Soon." His engine rumbled to life, and Sam took the wheel to lead them out of Tranquility and back to their current base of operations. **I would very much like to explore this bond further at the earliest opportunity,** Bee added.

His transmitted thoughts made Sam blush deeply, which was undeniably exactly what Bee had been aiming for. **Me too,** he responded honestly.

They were quiet after that for a long time, just enjoying being in one another's company, feeling everything so strongly, no need for words between them to break the peaceful atmosphere.

And then Sam's cell phone, the new government-issued one, began to ring. It was Lennox's ringtone, and he frowned down at the name before flipping it open.

"Will? What's up?"

Will's voice was rushed as he spoke. "It's Sector Seven. They just handed themselves over to the U.S. government."

" _What?_ " Sam demanded, releasing the steering wheel in shock. Bumblebee hummed a little through his speakers and took over without question. "Why would they –"

"Starscream. He's getting desperate, careless. They want nothing to do with him anymore. They just want protection in exchange for their information. You need to get down here now."

"We're already on our way," Sam replied. "We'll be there in five hours tops." In front of him, the speedometer ratcheted up from sixty to eighty.

"Hurry," was all Will said, and then the line we dead.

Looked like this was it.

Sam hoped they were ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately as it stands right now, _Dance with the Devil_ has been put on permanent hiatus. I know there wasn't much left, but somewhere along the way I lost the drive to write the last few pieces. I can only offer my sincerest apologies for this. I've crossposted here to AO3 for the sake of completion, and because I regularly get inquiries asking about the story from people who want to re-read it even incomplete, but I have to ask you not to hold your breath hoping for the last two chapters. I hope you can forgive me!
> 
> In any case, thank you so much for all the love this story has received over the last several years, especially on its original home on ff.net, and later when it moved to LJ. This story was the thing that really got me writing again, and a lot of that is thanks to the readers who gave me so much encouragement. If you've stumbled your way to finding this story again, please know that I am forever grateful to you. ♥
> 
> ~Morgan O'Conner  
> March 10, 2013


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